SERIOUS' CALL 



I- 

^> TO A 

^DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE; 



ADAPTED TO 



&ll <&vHzxx of Cjjrtsttana* 
BY REV. WILLIAM LAW, A. M, 



A NEW EDITION, CAREFULLY REVISED AND ABRIDGED 

BY HOWARD xMALCOM, A. M. 




" Behold I come quickly, and my reward is with me." 

Rev. xxii. 12. 






T * • 



BOSTON: 
WILLIAM D. TICKNOR. 

Corner of Washington and School Streets. 

1S3 5. 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1835, by 
William D. Ticknor, in the Clerk's Office of the District 
Court of the District of Massachusetts* 



2 3 ?k 






STEREOTYPED BY THOMAS G. WELLS 
BOSTON. 



BOSTON: 

Printed by Lewis and Penniman, 

Bromfield Street 



/ 



73 

EDITORS PREFACE. 



The reader is assured that no sentiments are ex- 
punged from this edition of the " Serious Call" but 
such as are repugnant to the views of the great bulk of 
Christians, or are redundant. In no case has any senti- 
ment of the Editor been foisted into the book. It was 
not deemed proper to make great alterations in the 
diction, though in many respects this has necessarily 
been done to meet the present standard of taste. 

In the original work, though the author was an Epis- 
copal minister, some of the prominent errors not only 
of Jacob Behmen, and Madame Guion, but of the 
Romish Church, constantly occur, beside many pecu- 
liarities which have never been adopted by any body 
of Christians, or perhaps by any other individual. The 
intrinsic excellence of a large part of the book has, how- 
ever, notwithstanding these blemishes, kept it always 
in demand ; eighteen editions having already been 
printed in this country, beside a still larger number in 
England. It seemed therefore to the Editor, and to 
many of his friends, highly important that an expur- 
gated edition should be prepared. This has now been 
done, with all the care and pains of which the Editor 
is capable. 

It must be remembered by the reader, that this book 
is addressed to professed Christians. Hence it formed 
no part of the author's plan to exhibit the satisfaction 
of Christ, or the mode of conversion. These topics he 



IV PREFACE. 

has treated elsewhere, but could not be introduced 
into this treatise without impairing its unity, and thus 
diminishing its effect. Attention to this consideration 
will prevent any one from mistaking the means of our 
gradual and perfect sanctification, as here inculcated, 
for a process of justification from the guilt of sins that 
are past, or any part of our title to the inheritance of 
the saints. 

If any should still be of opinion that the distin- 
guishing doctrines of grace are too little brought for- 
ward, it may be lamented as a defect, indeed, but can- 
not justly be made an objection. We are not to expect 
the completeness of a Body of Divinity, in a book of 
practical devotion. The Editor might have supplied 
some doctrinal elucidations in the form of notes ; but 
they would have been unwelcome to those whose 
sentiments on these points differ from his own, and 
increased the bulk and cost of the book, without aiding 
its specific object : viz. a call to nominal Christians to 
aspiring efforts after perfect purity and devotedness. 

It is hoped that the publication, in its present form, 
will prove an important and acceptable service to all 
who seek for themselves a high standard of Christian 
attainment, or make the giving of religious books one 
of their modes of doing good. 

Boston, Aug. 3, 1835. 



CONTENTS 



Memoir of the Author 7 

CHAPTER I. 
The nature and extent of Christian Devotion 13 

CHAPTER II. 

The reason why the generality of Christians fall so far short 
of the holiness of Christianity 23 

CHAPTER III. 

The great danger and folly of not intending to be as emi- 
nent as we cart, in ail virtues 23 

CHAPTER IV. 

We can please God in no state or employment of life, but 

by devoting it ail to his honor and giory 43 

CHAPTER V. 

Persons that are free from the ^necessity of labor are to be 
devoted to God in a higher' degree 58 

CHAPTER VI. 

The great obligations and advantages of making a wise and 

religious use of our estates . 1 .". 67 

CHAPTER VII. 

The imprudent use of an estate, represented in the character 
of Flavia 77 

CHAPTER VIII. 

The wise and pious use of an estate, naturally carrieth us 
to great perfection the Christian life; represented in 
the character of Miranda 85 

CHAPTER IX. 

Reflections on the life of Miranda, especially on propriety 
of dress 95 

CHAPTER X. 

All orders, ranks, and ages, are obliged to devote themselves 
to God .' ] 07 

CHAPTER XI. 

Great devotion fills our lives with the greatest peace and 
happiness that can be enjoyed in this world 121 

CHAPTER XII. 

The happiness of a life wholly devoted to God, farther 
proved, from the vain, sensual, and ridiculous enjoy- 
ments, which they are forced to take up with, who 
live according to their own humors 140 



VI CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

The most regular life, that is not governed by great devotion, 
shows misery, want, and emptiness 155 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Of early prayer in the morning. How are we to improve 
our forms of prayer, and increase the spirit of devotion 170 

CHAPTER XV. 
A method of daily prayer and reading ; 178 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Of chanting or singing psalms in our private devotions 190 

CHAPTER XVII. 
Humility ." 205 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

The practice of humility is made difficult by the general 
spirit and temper of the world 216 

CHAPTER XIX. 

The education which men generally receive makes hu- 
mility difficult. The spirit of a better education, repre- 
sented in the character of Paternus 231 

CHAPTER XX. 

The method of educating daughters, makes it difficult for 
them to enter into the spirit of humility. How miserably 
they are injured by such an education. A better edu- 
cation represented in the character of Eusebia. 247 

CHAPTER XXI. 

The frequency of devotion equally desirable by all orders 
of people. Universal love 266 

CHAPTER XXII. 

Of the necessity and benefit of intercession 287 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

The nature and duty of conformity to the will of God .... 303 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

The nature and necessity of examination. How we are to 
be particular in the confession of all our sins. How we 
are to fill our minds with a just horror and dread of all 
sin 311 

CHAPTER XXV. 
Conclusion. The excellency of a devout spirit 322 



MEMOIR. 



The Rev. William Law was born at King's 
ClifFe, in the county of Northampton, in 1686. 
His education, and the early years of his life, 
were very serious. At what time he entered the 
University, or when he took his degree of A. M. 
cannot be exactly ascertained, but his leaving 
that place was about the year 1712; after having 
made great proficiency in every branch of human 
literature. 

Mr. Law was a bachelor all his life. In per- 
son, he was well set, of a dark complexion, and 
remarkably cheerful in his temper. Such was 
his love of privacy and contemplation, that it 
was very seldom that he passed more than two 
hours in the company of any person. With a 
very small patrimony, he was remarkably chari- 
table, particularly to his poor neighbors in and 
about King's ClifFe. Such was the little value 
he set on money, that he gave the copies of all 
his works intended for publication, to his book- 



8 MEMOIR. 

seller; but, for one of them, Messrs. Richardsons 
and Urquhart, insisted upon his acceptance of 
one hundred guineas. 

Just before his soul took its happy flight, the 
heavenly glory so opened itself in him, that he 
broke forth into the following exultation, which 
showing the joyful reality of " the life of God in 
the soul of man," deserves to be written in letters 
of gold, not only to convince the infidel, but to 
comfort and confirm the pious pilgrim, in his 
journey through the wilderness of this world, into 
the peaceful regions of immortal bliss. "Away 
with these filthy garments;" said this dying saint, 
ec I feel a sacred fire kindled in my soul, which 
will destroy every thing contrary to itself, and 
burn as a flame of divine love to all eternity." 

In such triumph did this extraordinary servant 
of God resign his spirit into the hands of his 
beloved Lord and Master, at the place of his 
nativity. He died April 9, 1761, aged 75 years. 

He was well known to the world by a number 
of truly christian, pious writings, exemplified by 
a life spent in a manner suitable to a true disci- 
ple of his divine Master and Savior, Jesus Christ. 
His published works are, 

1. A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life, 
adapted to the State and Condition of all Orders 
of Christians. 

2. A Practical Treatise upon Christian Per- 
fection. 



MEMOIR. 9 

3. Three Letters to the Bishop of Bangor. 

4. Remarks upon a late Book, entitled, " The 
Fable of the Bees ; or Private Vices Public 
Benefits." 

5. The absolute unlawfulness of Stage Enter- 
tainments. 

6. The Case of Reason, or Natural Religion, 
fairly and fully stated. 

7. An earnest and serious Answer to Dr. 
Trapp's Discourse of the Folly, Sin, and Dan- 
ger, of being righteous over much. 

8. The Grounds and Reasons of Christian 
Regeneration. 

9. A Demonstration of the gross and funda- 
mental Errors of a late Book, called " A plain 
Account of the Nature and End of the Sacra- 
ment of the Lord's Supper," affectionately ad- 
dressed to all Orders of Men, and more especially 
to all the younger Clergy. 

10. An Appeal to all that doubt or disbelieve 
the Gospel. 

11. The Spirit of Prayer; or the Soul rising 
out of the Vanity of Time into the Riches of 
Eternity. 

12. The Spirit of Love. 

13. The Way to Divine Knowledge; being 
several Dialogues between Humanus, Academi- 
cus, Rusticus, and Theophilus, as preparatory to 
a new edition of the Works of Jacob Behmen, 
and the right Use of them. 

14. A short but sufficient Confutation of the 






10 MEMOIR. 

Rev. D. Warburton's projected Defence (as he 
calls it) of Christianity, in his Divine Legation 
of Moses. In a Letter to the Right Rev. the 
Lord Bishop of London. 

15. A Collection of Letters on the most inter- 
esting and important Subjects, and on several 
Occasions. 

16. Of Justification by Faith and Works; a 
Dialogue between a Methodist and a Church- 
man. 

17. An humble, earnest, and affectionate Ad- 
dress to the Clergy. 

The following are the remarks of Edward 
Gibbon, Esq. on the Rev. Mr. Law and his 
works, extracted from his memoirs, in two vols, 
quarto. 

His words are: — "Mr Law died at an ad- 
vanced age, of a suppression of urine, in 1761, 
at the house of Mrs. Hesther Gibbon, known by 
the name of the Cliffe, in Northamptonshire, 
where she still resides. In that family he has 
left the reputation of a worthy and eminently 
pious man, who believed all that he professed, 
and practised all that he enjoined. The charac- 
ter of a nonjuror, which he held to the last, is 
a sufficient evidence of the tenaciousness of his 
principles in Church and State; and the sacrifice 
of his interest to his conscience will be always 
respectable. 

" His theological writings, which our domestic 



MEMOIR. 11 

concerns induced me to read, preserve an amiable 
though imperfect sort of life, in my opinion; but 
here, perhaps, I pronounce with more confidence 
than knowledge on the merits of a man no pen 
can justify. His last compositions seemed tinc- 
tured too much with the mystic enthusiasm of 
Jacob Behmen; but his arguments are acute; 
his manner is lively; his style forcible and 
clear; and, had not the vigor of hi3 mind been 
clouded by enthusiasm, he might be ranked with 
the most agreeable and ingenious writers of 
the times. 

" While the Bangorian controversy was a fash- 
ionable theme, he entered the lists. He resumed 
the contest again with Bishop Hoadly, in which 
his nonjuring principles appear, though he ap- 
proves himself equally, to both prelates. 

" On the appearance of the i Fable of the 
Bees, 5 he drew his pen against the licentious- 
ness of the doctrine of that writer; and Morality 
and Religion must rejoice in his applause and 
victory. 

" Mr. Law's master-piece, the c Serious Call,' 
is still read as a popular and powerful book of 
devotion. f His precepts are rigid, but they are 
formed and derived from the Gospel; his satire 
is sharp, but his wisdom is from the knowledge 
of human life; fand many of his portraits are not 
unworthy the pen of La Bruyere. If there exists 
a spark of piety in his reader's mind, he will 
soon kindle it to a flame; and a philosopher must 



12 MEMOIR. 

» 

allow that he is more consistent in his principles 
than any of the tribe of mystic writers. He 
handles with equal severity and truth the strange 
contradiction between faith and practice in the 
Christian world. Under the names of Flavia 
and Miranda, the worldly and the pious sisters, 
he has admirably described Mr. Gibbon's two 
aunts." 



A 

SERIOUS CALL 

TO A DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE 



CHAP. L 

THE NATURE AND EXTENT OF CHRISTIAN DEVOTION. 

Devotion is neither private nor public prayer: 
but prayers, whether private or public, are par- 
ticular parts or instances of devotion. Devotion 
signifies a life given or devoted to God. He 
therefore is the devout man, who lives no longer 
to his own will, or the way and spirit of the world, 
but to the will of God — who considers God in 
every thing, serves God in every thing, and makes 
all the parts of his common life, parts of piety, 
by doing every thing in the name of God, and 
under such rules as are conformable to his glory. 

We readily acknowledge, that God alone is to 
be the rule and measure of our prayers, — that in 
them we are to look wholly unto Him, and act 
wholly for Him, that we are only to pray in such 
a manner, for such things, and such ends as are 
suitable to his glory. But let any one find out the 
reason why he is to be thus strictly pious in his 

2 



14 SERIOUS CALL, 



Devotion reasonable. 



prayers, and he will find the same as strong a 
reason to be as strictly pious in all the other parts 
of his life. For there is not the least shadow of 
a reason^ why we should make God the rule and 
measure of our prayers, why we should then look 
wholly unto Him, and pray according to his will; 
but what equally proves it necessary for us to 
look wholly unto God, and make Him the rule 
and measure of all the other actions of our life. 
Any ways of life, any employment of our parts* 
time or money, that is not strictly according to 
the will of God, that is not for such ends as are 
suitable to his glory, are as great absurdities and 
failings, as prayers that are not according to the 
will of God. For there is no other reason, why 
our prayers should be according to the will of 
God, and should have nothing in them, but what 
is wise, and holy, but that our lives may be of 
the same nature, full of the same wisdom, and 
heavenly tempers, that we may live unto God in 
the same spirit that we pray unto Him. Were it 
not pur strict duty to live by reason, and to de- 
vote all our actions to God, were it not absolute- 
ly necessary to walk before Him in all holiness, 
doing every thing in his name, and for his glory, 
there would be no excellency or wisdom in the 
most heavenly prayers. Nay, such prayers would 
be absurdities, they would be like prayers for 
wings, when it was no part of our duty to fly. 
/ As sure therefore as there is any wisdom in 
praying for the spirit of God, so sure is it, that 



CHRISTIAN DEVOTION. 15 

Absurd, though common inconsistency. 

we are to make that Spirit the rule of all our ac- 
tions. S As sure as it is our duty to look wholly to 
God in our prayers, so sure is it, that it is our 
duty to live wholly to God in our lives. But we 
can no more be said to live to God, unless we 
live unto Him in all the ordinary actions of our 
life, than we can be said to pray unto God, unless 
our prayers look wholly unto Him. So that un- 
reasonable and absurd ways of life, whether in 
labor or diversion, whether they consume our 
time or our money, are like unreasonable and 
absurd prayers, and are as truly an offence unto 
God. 

It is for want of knowing, or at least consider- 
ing this, that we see such a ridiculous mixture in 
the lives of many people. You see them strict as 
to some times and places of devotion; but in 
their manner of spending time and money, in 
their cares and fears, in their pleasures and indul- 
gences, in their labor and diversions they are like 
the rest of the world. This makes the loose part 
of the world make a jest of those that are devout, 
because they see their devotion goes no farther 
than their prayers; and that when they are over, 
they live no more unto God, till the time of pray- 
er returns again; but live by the same humor and 
fancy, and in as full an enjoyment of all the fol- 
lies of life, as other people. 

Julius is very fearful of missing public worship; 
all the parish supposes him to be sick, if he is 
not at church. But if you ask him why he spends 



16 SERIOUS CALL. 



A character portrayed. 



the rest of his time by humor or chance — why he 
is a companion of the silliest people in their most 
silly pleasures? why he is ready for every imper- 
tinent entertainment and diversion ? why there is 
no amusement too trifling to please him? why he 
is busy at balls and assemblies? why he gives 
himself up to idle, gossiping conversation? why 
he lives in foolish friendships and fondness for 
particular persons, that neither want nor deserve 
any particular kindness ? why he allows himself 
in foolish hatreds and resentments against partic- 
ular persons, without considering that he is to 
love every body as himself ? If you ask him why 
he never puts his conversation, his time, and for- 
tune under the rules of religion, Julius has no 
more to say for himself, than the most disorderly 
person. The whole tenor of Scripture lies as di- 
rectly against such a life, as against debauchery 
and intemperance. He that lives in such a course 
of idleness and folly, lives no more according to 
the religion of Jesus Christ, than he that lives in 
gluttony and intemperance. 

If a man should tell Julius that there was no 
occasion for so much constancy at prayers, and 
that he might, without any harm to himself, neg- 
lect public religious services as the generality of 
people do, Julius would think such a one to be 
no Christian, and that he ought to avoid his com- 
pany. But if a person only tells him that he may 
live as the generality of the world does, that he 
may enjoy himself as others do, that he may 



CHRISTIAN DEVOTION. 17 

The Christian spirit mistaken. 

spend his time and money as people of fashion 
do, that he may conform to the follies and frail- 
ties of the generality, and gratify his tempers and 
passions as most people do, Julius never suspects 
that man to want a Christian spirit, or that he is 
doing the devil's work. 

Yet if Julius was to read the New Testa- 
ment from the beginning to the end, he would 
find his course of life condemned in every page. 

Indeed there cannot any thing be imagined 
more absurd in itself, than wise and heavenly 
prayers added to a life of vanity and folly, where 
neither labor, diversions, time nor money, are 
under the direction of the wisdom and heavenly 
tempers of our prayers. If we see a man pre- 
tending to act wholly with regard to God in every 
thing that he did, that would neither spend time 
nor money, or take any labor or diversion, but 
so far as he could act according to strict princi- 
ples of reason and piety, and yet neglecting all 
prayer, whether public or private, should we not 
wonder how he could have so much folly? Yet 
this is as reasonable as for any person to pretend 
to strictness in devotion, to be careful of observ- 
ing times and places of prayer, and yet letting 
the rest of his life, his time and labor, his talents 
and money be disposed of, without any regard to 
strict rules of piety and devotion. For to be 
weak and foolish in spending our time and for 
tune is no greater a mistake, than to be weak and 
foolish in relation to our prayers. And to allow 



IS SERIOUS CALL. 



The devotion Ciirist requires. 



ourselves in 8,ny ways of life that neither are nor 
can be offered to God, is the same irreligion as 
to neglect pur prayers, or use them in such a 
manner, as makes them an offering unworthy of 
God. 

Our blessed Savior and his apostles call us to 
renounce the world, and differ in every temper 
and way of life, from the spirit and way of the 
world: — to be as babes, born into a new state of 
things, to live as pilgrims in spiritual watching, 
in holy fear, and heavenly aspiring after another 
life : — to take up our daily cross, to deny our- 
selves, to seek the blessedness of poverty of 
spirit : — to forsake the pride and vanity of riches, 
to take no thought for the morrow, to live in the 
profoundest state of humility, to rejoice in world- 
ly sufferings: — to reject the lust of the flesh, the 
lust of the eyes, and the pride of life; to bear in- 
juries, to forgive and bless our enemies, and to 
love mankind as God loveth them: — to give up 
our whole hearts and affections to God, and strive 
to enter through the strait gate into a life of 
eternal glory. 

This is the common devotion which our bless- 
ed Savior taught, in order to make it the com- 
mon life of all Christians. I call these duties the 
devotion of our common life, because if they are 
to be practised, they must be made parts of our 
common life ; they can have no place any where 
else. 

If contempt of the world, and heavenly affec- 



CHRISTIAN DEVOTION. 19 

Characteristics of true Christian devotion. 

tion, is a necessary temper of Christians, it is 
necessary that this temper appear in the manner 
of using the world, because it can have no place 
any where else. If self-denial be a condition of 
salvation, it must make a part of ordinary life. 
If humility be a Christian duty, then life is to be 
a constant course of humility in all its kinds. If 
poverty of spirit be necessary, it must be the 
spirit and temper of every day. If we are to 
relieve the naked, the sick, and the prisoner, it 
must be the common charity of our lives, as far 
as we can render ourselves able to perform it. 
If we are to love our enemies, we must make our 
common life a visible exercise and demonstration 
of that love. If content and thankfulness, if the 
patient bearing of evil be duties to God, they are 
the duties of every day. f if we are to be in Christ 
new creatures, we must show that we are so, by 
having new ways of living in the world. 

Thus it is in all the virtues and holy tempers 
of Christianity. They are not ours, unless they 
be the virtues and tempers of our ordinary life. 
So that Christianity is so far from leaving us to 
live in the common ways of life, conforming to 
the customs, and gratifying the tempers which 
the spirit of the world delights in, that all its 
virtues which it makes necessary to salvation, 
are only so many ways of living above, and con- 
trary to the world in all the common actions of 
our life. If our common life is not a common 
course of humility, self-denial, renunciation of 



20 SERIOUS CALL. 



These characteristics too rare among professors. 



the world, poverty of spirit, and heavenly affec- 
tion, we do not live the lives of Christians. 

But though it is thus plain, that this and this 
alone, is Christianity; yet it is as plain, that there 
is little of this to be found, even among the better 
sort of people. You see them often at the sanc- 
tuary, and pleased with fine preachers; but look 
into their lives, and you see them just the same 
sort of people as others are, that make no pre- 
tences to devotion. The difference that you find 
between them, is only the difference of their nat- 
ural tempers. They have the same taste of the 
world, the same worldly cares, and fears, and 
joys; they have the same turn of mind, equally 
vain in their desires. You see the same fondness 
for state and equipage, the same pride and vanity 
of dress, the same self-love and indulgence, the 
same foolish friendships and groundless hatreds, 
the same levity of mind and trifling spirit, the 
same fondness of diversions, the same idle dispo- 
sitions and vain ways of spending their time in 
visiting and conversation, as the rest of the world, 
that make no pretences to devotion. 

Ido not mean this comparison between people 
seemingly good, and professed rakes; but between 
people of sober lives. Let us take an instance in 
two modest women. Let it be supposed, that one 
of them is careful of times of devotion, and ob- 
serves them through a sense of duty; and that the 
other has no hearty concern about it, but is at 
church seldom or often, just as it happens. Now 



CHRISTIAN DEVOTION. 21 

Professors too much like the irreligious. 

it is a very easy thing to see this difference be- 
tween these persons. But when you have seen 
this, can you find any farther difference between 
them? Can you find that their common life is of 
a different kind ? Are not the tempers, customs, 
and manners of the one, the same as of the other? 
Do they live as if they belonged to different 
worlds, had different views, rules, and measures 
of all their actions? Have they not the same 
goods and evils, are they not pleased and dis- 
pleased in the same manner, and for the same 
things? Do they not live in the same course of 
life? Does one seem to be of this world, looking 
at the things that are temporal, and the other to 
be of another world, looking wholly at the things 
that are eternal? Does the one live in pleasure, 
delighting herself in show or dress, and the other 
live in self-denial and mortification, renouncing 
every thing that looks like vanity either of person, 
dress, or carriage ? Does the one follow public 
diversions, and trifle away her time in idle visits 
and corrupt conversation; and does the other 
study all the arts of improving her time, living in 
prayer and watching, and such good works as 
may make all her time turn to her advantage, and 
be placed to her account at the last day ? Is the 
one careless of expense, and glad to be able to 
adorn herself with every costly ornament of dress ? 
and does the other consider her fortune as a tal- 
ent given her by God, which is to be improved 
religiously, and no more to be spent in vain and 



22 SERIOUS CALL. 



Real piety makes itself obvious. 



needless ornaments, than it is to be buried in 
the earth? 

Where must you look to find one person of 
religion differing in this manner, from another 
that has none ? And yet, if they do not differ in 
these things, can it be said, the one is a Christian 
and the other not? 

If the doctrines of Christianity were practised, 
they would make a man as different from other 
people as to all worldly tempers, sensual plea- 
sures, and the pride of life, as a wise man is dif- 
ferent from a natural fool. It would be easy to 
know a Christian by his course of life. It is no- 
torious that most professing Christians are not 
only like other men in their frailties and infirmi- 
ties, which might be in some degree excusable; 
but the complaint is, they are like others in the 
main articles of their lives. They enjoy the 
world, and live every day in the same tempers, 
the same designs, and the same indulgences, as 
they who know not God. You may see them 
different from other people as to times and places 
of prayer, but generally like the rest of the world 
in all the other parts of their lives. That is add- 
ing Christian devotion to an heathen life. I have 
the authority of our blessed Savior for this re- 
mark, where he says, " Take no thought, saying 
what shall we eat, or what shall we drink, or 
wherewithal shall we be clothed? for after all 
these things do the Gentiles seek. 53 But if to be 
thus in love even with the necessary things of 



CAUSES OF CHRISTIAN DEFICIENCY. 28 

An important inquiry. 

this life, shows that we are not yet of a Christian 
spirit, but are like heathens; surely to enjoy the 
vanity and folly of the world as they did, to be 
like them in the main tempers of our lives, in 
self-love and indulgence, in sensual pleasures and 
diversions, in the vanity of dress, the love of 
show and greatness, or any other gaudy dis- 
tinction of fortune, is a much greater sign of a 
heathen temper. And consequently they who 
add devotion to such a life, must be said to pray 
as Christians, but live as Heathens, 



CHAP. II. 

THE REASON WHY THE GENERALITY OF CHRISTIANS 
FALL SO FAR SHORT OF THE HOLINESS AND DEVO- 
TION OF CHRISTIANITY. 

It may now be reasonably inquired, how it 
comes to pass, that the lives even of the better 
sort of people are thus strangely contrary to the 
principles of Christianity. 

But before I give a direct answer to this 5 I de- 
sire it may also be inquired, how it comes to pass 
that swearing is so common a vice among Chris- 
tians. It is indeed not so common among women, 
as among men. Now I ask, how comes it that 
men are guilty of so gross and profane a sin as 
this? There is neither ignorance nor human 
infirmity to plead for it : it is against an express 



24 SERIOUS CALL. 



The reason of common swearing. 



commandment, and the most plain doctrine of 
our blessed Savior.* 

Do but now find the reason why the generality 
of men live in this notorious vice, and then you 
will have found the reason why the generality 
even of the better sort of people, live so contrary 
to Christianity. 

The reason of common swearing is this : men 
have not so much as the intention to please God 
in all their actions. Let a man but have so much 
piety as to intend to please God in all the actions 
of his life, as the happiest and best thing in the 
world, and then he will never swear. It will be 
as impossible as it is for a man that intends to 
please his prince, to abuse him to his face. 

It seems but a small and necessary part of piety 
to have such a sincere intention as this; and he 
has no reason to look upon himself as a disciple 
of Christ, who is not thus far advanced in piety. 
Yet it is purely for want of this degree of piety, 
that you see such a mixture of sin and folly in the 
lives even of the better sort of people. It is for 
want of this intention, that you see women pro- 
fess devotion, yet live in all the folly and vanity 
of dress, wasting their time in idleness and plea- 
sure. For let but a woman feel her heart full of 
this intention, and she will find it as impossible 
to patch or paint, as to curse or swear; she will 

* This vice is happily now much less common than when our 
author wrote. It still prevails, however, to an awful degree j 
especially in some sections of our country. — Ed. 



Causes of christian deficiency. £5 

The importance of an intention to please God. 

no more desire to shine at balls and assemblies, or 
make a figure among those that are most finely- 
dressed, than she will desire to dance iipon a rope 
to please spectators. She will know that the one 
is as far from the wisdom and excellency of the 
Christian spirit, as the other. 

It was this general intention that made primi- 
tive Christians such eminent instances of piety, 
that made the goodly fellowship of the saints, and 
all the glorious army of martyrs and confessors. 
And if you here stop and ask yourself why you 
are not as pious as the primitive Christians, your 
heart will tell you that it is neither through igno- 
rance nor inability, but purely because you never 
thoroughly intended it. You observe the same 
Sunday-worship that they did; and you are strict 
in it, because it is your full intention to be so. 
And when you as fully intend to be like them in 
their ordinary common life, when you intend to 
please God in all your actions, you will find it 
as possible as to be strictly exact in the service 
of the church. And when you have this intention 
to please God in all your actions, as the happiest 
and best thing, you will find in you as great an 
aversion to every thing vain and impertinent in 
common life, whether of business or pleasure, as 
you now have to any thing that is profane. You 
will be as fearful of living in any foolish way, 
either of spending your time or your fortune, as 
you are now fearful of neglecting the public 
worship. 

S 



£6 SERIOUS CALL. 



The clergyman. The tradesman. 

Let a clergyman be but thus pious, and he will 
converse as if he had been brought up by an 
apostle. He will no more think and talk of 
noble preferment, than of noble eating or a glo- 
rious chariot. He will no more complain of the 
frowns of the world, or a small charge, than he 
will complain of the want of a laced coat, or a 
running horse. Let him but intend to please 
God in all his actions, as the happiest and best 
thing in the world, and then he will know that 
there is nothing noble in a clergyman, but burn- 
ing zeal for the salvation of souls; nor any thing 
poor in his profession, but idleness and a worldly 
spirit. 

Let a tradesman have this intention, and it 
will make him a saint in his shop. His every 
day business will be a course of wise and rea- 
sonable actions, made holy to God, by being done 
in obedience to his will and pleasure. He will 
buy and sell, and labor and travel, because by so 
doing he can do some good to himself and others. 
But then, as nothing can please God but what is 
wise, and reasonable, and holy, so he will neither 
buy, nor sell, nor labor in any other manner, nor 
to any other end, but such as may be shown to 
be wise and reasonable and holy. He will there- 
fore consider not what arts, or methods, or appli- 
cation, will soonest make him richer and greater 
than his brethren, or remove him from a shop to 
a life of state and pleasure; but he will consider 
what arts, methods, and application can make 



CAUSES OF CHRISTIAN DEFICIENCY. 27 

The gentleman of fortune. 

worldly business most acceptable to God, and 
make a life of trade a life of piety. This will 
be the temper and spirit of every tradesman; 
he cannot stop short of these degrees of piety, 
whenever it is his intention to please God in all 
his actions, as the best and happiest thing in the 
world. 

Let the gentleman of birth and fortune but 
have this intention, and you will see how it will 
carry him from every appearance of evil, to 
every instance of piety and goodness. He can- 
not live by chance, or as humor carries him, be- 
cause he knows that nothing can please God but 
a wise and regular course of life. He cannot 
live in idleness and indulgence, in sports and 
gaming, in pleasures and intemperance, in vain 
expenses and high living, because these things 
cannot be turned into means of piety, or made so 
many parts of a wise and religious life. 

As he thus removes from all appearance of 
evil, so he hastens and aspires after every in- 
stance of goodness. — He does not ask what is 
allowable and pardonable, but what is commen- 
dable and praise-worthy. He does not ask 
whether God will forgive the folly of our lives, 
the madness of our pleasures, the vanity of our 
expenses, the richness of our equipage, and the 
careless consumption of our time; but he asks 
whether God is pleased with these things, or 
whether these are the appointed ways of gaining 
his favor. He does not inquire whether it be 



28 SERIOUS CALL. 



The gentleman of fortune. 



pardonable to hoard up money, while the widow 
and the orphan, the sick and the prisoner want 
to be relieved ; but he asks whether God has 
required these things at our hands, whether we 
shall be called to account at the last day for the 
neglect of them. 

He will not therefore look at the lives of Chris- 
tians, to learn how he ought to spend his estate; 
but he will look into the Scriptures, and make 
every doctrine, parable, precept, or instruction 
that relates to rich men, a law to himself in the 
use of his estate. 

He denies himself many pleasures and indul- 
gences which his estate could procure, because 
our blessed Savior says, u Wo unto you that are 
rich, for ye have received your consolation." He 
will have but one rule for charity, and that will 
be, to spend all that he can that way; because 
the Judge of quick and dead has said, that all 
so given, is given to Him. 

His hospitable table will not be only for the 
rich and wealthy to come and feast with him: 
because our blessed Lord has said, " When thou 
makest a dinner, call not thy friends, nor thy 
brethren, neither thy kinsmen, nor thy rich neigh- 
bors, lest they also bid thee again, and a recom- 
pense be made thee. But when thou makest a 
feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the 
blind, and thou shalt be blessed. For they can- 
not recompense thee, for thou shalt be recom- 
pensed at the resurrection of the just." Luke 
xiv. 12, 13, 14. 



CAUSES OF CHRISTIAN DEFICIENCY. 29 

This picture is not imaginary. 

Let not any one look upon this as an imaginary 
description of charity, which cannot be put in 
practice. For it is so far from being an imprac- 
ticable form of life , that it has been practised by 
great numbers of Christians. And it is so far 
from being impossible now, that if we can find 
any Christians, that sincerely intend to please 
God in all their actions as the best and happiest 
thing in the world, whether they be young or 
old, single or married, men or women, if they 
have but this intention, it will be impossible for 
them to do otherwise. This one principle will 
infallibly carry them to this height of charity, 
and they will find themselves unable to stop short 
of it. For as all waste and unreasonable expense 
is done designedly and with deliberation, so no 
one can be guilty of it, whose constant intention 
is to please God in the use of his money. 

I have chosen to explain this matter by appeal- 
ing to this intention, because it makes the case 
so plain, and because every one that has a mind, 
may see it in the clearest light, and feel it in the 
strongest manner, only by looking into his own 
heart. For it is as easy for every person to 
know, whether he intends to please God in all 
his actions, as for any servant to know whether 
this be his intention towards his master. Every 
one can as easily tell how he lays out his money, 
and whether he considers how to please God in 
it, as he can tell where his estate is, and whether 

it be in money or land. So that no plea is left 

3 # 



80 SERIOUS CALL. 



The contrast, arising from difference of intention. 



for ignorance or frailty, as to this matter, every 
body is in the light, and every body has power. 
And no one can fall, but he that is not so much 
a Christian as to intend to please God in the use 
of his estate. 

You see two persons, one is regular in public 
and private prayer, the other is not. Now the 
reason of this difference is not, that one has 
strength and power to observe prayer, and the 
other has not; but, that one intends to please 
God in the duties of devotion, and the other has 
no intention about it. — Now the case is the same 
in the right or wrong use of our time and money. 
You see one person throwing away his time in 
sleep and idleness, in visiting and diversions, and 
his money in the most vain and unreasonable 
expenses. You see another careful of every 
day, dividing his hours by rules of reason and 
religion, and spending all his money religiously; 
now the difference is not owing to this, that one 
has strength and power to do thus, and the other 
has not; but, that one intends to please God in 
the right use of all his time and all his money, 
and the other has no intention about it. 

Here therefore let us judge ourselves, let us 
not vainly content ourselves with the common 
disorders of our lives, the vanity of our expenses, 
the folly of our diversions, the pride of our hab- 
its, the idleness of our lives, and the wasting of 
our time, fancying that these are such imperfec- 
tions as we fall into through the unavoidable 



CAUSES OF CHRISTIAN DEFICIENCY. 31 

Intention not sufficient without Divine grace. 

weakness and frailty of our nature. But let us 
be assured, that these disorders of our common 
life are owing to this, that we have not so much 
Christianity as to intend to please God in all the 
actions of our life, as the best and happiest thing 
in the world. So that we must not look upon 
ourselves in a state of common and pardonable 
imperfection, but in such a state as wants the 
first and most fundamental principle of Christ- 
ianity, viz. an intention to please God in all 
our actions. 

This doctrine does not suppose that we have 
no need of divine grace, or that it is in our own 
power to make ourselves perfect. It only sup- 
poses that through the want of a sincere intention 
of pleasing God in all our actions, we fall into 
such irregularities of life, as by the ordinary 
means of grace we should have power to avoid. 
And that we have not that perfection, which our 
present state of grace makes us capable of, be- 
cause we do not so much as intend to have it. 
It only teaches us that the reason why you see 
no real mortification or self-denial, no eminent 
charity, no profound humility, no heavenly affec- 
tion, no true contempt of the world, no Christian 
meekness, no sincere zeal, no eminent piety in 
the common lives of Christians, is this, because 
they do not so much as intend to be exact and 
exemplary in these virtues. 



SERIOUS CALL, 



CHAP. III. 

THE GREAT DANGER AND FOLLY OF NOT INTENDING 
TO BE AS EMINENT AS WE CAN, IN THE PRACTICE 
OF ALL CHRISTIAN VIRTUES. 

Although the goodness of God, and his rich 
mercies in Christ Jesus are a sufficient assurance 
to us, that he will be merciful to our unavoidable 
infirmities, that is, to such failings as are the 
effects of ignorance or surprise : yet we have no 
reason to expect the same mercy towards those 
sins which we live in, through want of intention 
to avoid them. 

A common swearer, who dies in that guilt, 
seems to have no title to the divine mercy y be- 
cause he can no more plead any weakness or 
infirmity in his excuse, than the man that hid 
his talent in the earth, could plead his want of 
strength to keep it out of the earth. Now, if 
this be right reasoning, why do we not carry this 
way of reasoning' to its true extent? Why do 
we not as much condemn every other error of 
life that has no weakness to plead in its excuse. 
If this be so bad, because it might be avoided, if 
we did but sincerely intend it, must not all other 
erroneous ways of life be very guilty, if we live 
in them, not through weakness, but because we 
never sincerely intend to avoid them ? 

For instance, you perhaps have made no pro- 
gress in the most important Christian virtues, 



EMINENT VIRTUES REQUIRED. 



Diminutive Christians have no excuse. 



you have scarce gone half way in humility and 
charity; now if your failure in these duties is 
purely owing to your want of intention of per- 
forming them in any true degree, have you not 
then as little to plead for yourself, and are you 
not as much without all excuse as the common 
swearer? Why, therefore do you not press these 
things home upon your conscience ? Why do you 
not think it as dangerous for you to live in such 
defects as are in your power to amend, as it is 
dangerous for a common swearer to live in the 
breach of a duty, which it is in his power to 
observe? Is not negligence and a want of a 
sincere intention as blamable in one case as in 
another? You are, it may be, as far from Chris- 
tian perfection, as the common swearer is from 
keeping the third commandment. Are you not 
therefore as much condemned by the doctrines 
of the gospel, as the swearer is by the third 
commandment ? 

If you are as forward in the Christian life as 
your best endeavors can make you, then you 
may justly hope that your imperfections will not 
be laid to your charge. But if your defects in 
piety, humility, and charity, are owing to your 
negligence and want of sincere attention to be as 
eminent as you can in these virtues, then you 
leave yourself as much without exeuse as he 
that lives in the sin of swearing, through the 
want of a sincere intention to depart from it. 

The salvation of our souls is set forth in Scrip- 



S4 SERIOUS CALL. 



Religion requires great energy. 



ture as a thing of difficulty, that requires all our 
diligence, that is to be "worked out with fear 
and trembling." We are told, " strait is the gate 
and narrow is the way, that leadeth unto life, 
and few there be that find it." That " many are 
called but few are chosen." And that many will 
miss their salvation, who seem to have taken 
some pains to obtain it ; as in these words* 
" Strive to enter in at the strait gate, for many, 1 
say unto you* will seek to enter in, and shall not 
be able." Here our blessed Lord commands us to 
strive to enter in; because many will fail, who 
only seek to enter. By which we are plainly 
taught, that religion is a state of labor and striv- 
ing, and that many will fail of salvation; not 
because they took no care or pains about it, but 
because they did not take pains and care enough; 
they sought, but did not strive to enter in. 

Every Christian, therefore, should examine 
his life as well by these doctrines, as by the 
commandments. These doctrines are as plain 
marks of our condition, as the commandments 
are plain marks of our duty. For if salvation 
is only given to those who strive for it, then it is 
as reasonable for me to consider whether my 
course of life be a course of striving to obtain 
it, as to consider whether I am keeping any of 
the commandments* 

If my religion is only a formal compliance 
with those modes of worship that are in fashion 
where I live; if it cost me no pains or trouble, if 



EMINENT VIRTUES REQUIRED. 35 

No promises of mercy to the slothful. 

it lays me under no restraints, if I have no care- 
ful thoughts and sober reflections about it, is it 
not great weakness to think that I am " striving 
to enter in at the strait gate?" If I am seeking 
every thing that can delight my senses and re- 
gale my appetites: spending my time and fortune 
in pleasures, diversions, and worldly enjoyments, 
a stranger to watchings, fastings, prayers, and 
mortifications, how can it be said that I am 
<c working out my salvation with fear and tremb- 
ling?" 

We cannot offer to God the service of angels, 
nor obey him as man in a state of perfection 
could. But fallen men can do their best, and 
this perfection is required of us; it is only the 
perfection of our best endeavors, a careful labor 
to be as perfect as we can. But if we stop short 
of this, for aught we know, we stop short of the 
mercy of God, and leave ourselves nothing to 
plead from the terms of the gospel. For God has 
there made no promises of mercy to the slothful 
and negligent. 

The best way for any one to know how much 
he ought to aspire after holiness, is to consider 
not how much will make his present life easy: 
but to ask himself how much he thinks will make 
him easy at the hour of death. Any man that 
dares be so serious as to put this question to him- 
self will be forced to answer that at death every 
one will wish that he had been as perfect as 
human nature can be. 



36 SERIOUS CALL, 



Abortive wishes. Self-condemnation. 

Is not this therefore sufficient to put us not 
only upon wishing, but laboring after all that 
perfection which we shall then lament the want 
of? Is it not excessive folly to be content with 
such a course of piety when we shall so want it 
as to have nothing else to comfort us? How can 
we carry a severer condemnation against our- 
selves, than to believe that at the hour of death 
we shall want the virtues of the saints, and wish 
that we had been among the first servants of 
God, and yet take no methods of arriving at 
their height of piety, while we are alive ? 

Though this is an absurdity that we easily pass 
over at present, while the health of our bodies, 
the passions of our minds, the noise, hurry, plea- 
sures, and business of the world, lead us on with 
eyes that see not, and ears that hear not; yet at 
death, it will set itself before us in dreadful mag- 
nitude, and our conscience will never let us take 
our eyes from it. 

We see in worldly matters, what a torment self- 
condemnation is j and how hardly a man is able 
to forgive himself, when he has brought himself 
into any calamity or disgrace, purely by his own 
folly. The affliction is made doubly tormenting, 
because he is forced to charge it all upon himself, 
as his own act and deed, against the nature and 
reason of things, and contrary to the advice of 
his friends. By this we may in some degree 
guess how terrible the pain of that self-condem- 
nation will be, when a man shall find himself in 



EMINENT VIRTUES REQUIRED.' 37 

Approach of death. The tradesman. 

the miseries of death, under the severity of a self- 
condemning conscience; charging all his distress 
upon his own folly an$ madness, against the 
sense and reason of his own mind, against all the 
doctrines and precepts of religion, and contrary 
to all the instructions, calls and warnings both 
of God and man. 

Penitens was a busy notable tradesman, and 
very prosperous in his dealings; but died in the 
thirty-fifth year of his age. 

A little before his death, when the doctors had 
given him over, some of his neighbors came one 
evening to see him; to whom he said, 

"I see, my friends, the tender concern you 
have for me. You think how melancholy a case 
it is to see so young a man, and in such flourish- 
ing business, delivered up to death. And perhaps, 
had I visited any of you in my condition, I should 
have had the same thoughts. 

"But now, my friends, my thoughts are no 
more like your thoughts, than my condition is 
like yours. It is no trouble to me now to think 
that I am to die young, or before I have raised 
an estate. These things are now sunk into such 
mere nothings, that I have no name little enough 
to call them by. For if in a few days, or hours, 
I am to leave this carcass to be buried in the 
earth, and to find myself either for ever happy 
in the favor of God, or eternally separated from 
all light and peace, can any words sufficiently 
express the littleness of every thing else ? 

4 



38 SERIOUS CALL. 



Dying admonitions. Lepidus. 

" Is there any dream like the dream of life, 
which amuses us with the neglect and disregard 
of these things ? Is there any folly like the folly 
of our manly state, which is too wise and busy to 
be at leisure for these reflections? When we 
consider death as a misery, we only think of it 
as a miserable separation from the enjoyments 
of this life. We seldom mourn over an old man 
that dies rich ; but we lament the young, that are 
taken away in the progress of their fortune. You 
yourselves look upon me with pity, not that I 
am going unprepared to meet the Judge of quick 
and dead; but that I am to leave a prosperous 
trade in the flower of my life. This is the wis- 
dom of our manly thoughts. And yet what folly 
of the silliest children is so great as this? For 
what is there miserable or dreadful in death, but 
the consequences of it? When a man is dead, 
what does any thing signify to him, but the state 
he is then in ? 

" Our poor friend Lepidus died, you know, as 
he was dressing himself for a feast. Do you 
think it is now part of his trouble that he did not 
live till that entertainment was over ? Feasts, 
and business, and pleasures, and enjoyments, 
seem great things to us, whilst we think of no- 
thing else; but as soon as we add death to them, 
they all sink into an equal littleness; and the 
soul that is separated from the body, no more 
laments the loss of business than the losing of a 
feast. 



EMINENT VIRTUES REQUIRED. 39 

Plain questions. A strange thing. 

" If I am going into the joys of God, could 
there be any reason to grieve, that this happened 
to me before I was forty years of age ? Could it 
be a sad thing to go to heaven before I had made 
a few more bargains, or stood a little longer be- 
hind a counter ? And if I am to go amongst lost 
spirits, could there be any reason to be content, 
that this did not happen to me till I was old and 
full of riches ? 

" If good angels were ready to receive my soul, 
could it be any grief to me, that I was dying upon 
a poor bed in a garret? And if God has deliver- 
ed me up to evil spirits, to be dragged to places 
of torment, could it be any comfort to me, that 
they found me upon a bed of state ? 

" But, my friends, how am I surprised that I 
have not always had these thoughts ? For what 
is there in the terrors of death, in the vanities of 
life, or the necessities of piety, but what I might 
have as easily and fully seen in any part of my 
life? What a strange thing is it, that a little 
health, or the poor business of a shop, should 
keep us so senseless of the great things that are 
coming fast upon us ! 

" Just as you came into my chamber, I was 
thinking what numbers of souls there are in 
the world in my condition at this very time, sur- 
prised with a summons to the other world : some 
taken from their shops and farms, others from 
their sports and pleasures, these at suits at law, 
those at gaming tables, some on the road, others 



40 SERIOUS CALL. 



Self-reproaches on a dying bed. 



at their own fire-sides., and all seized at an hour 
when they thought nothing of it: frighted at the 
approach of death, confounded at the vanity of 
all their labors, designs, and projects, astonished 
at the folly of their past lives, and not knowing 
which way to turn their thoughts, to find any 
comfort. Their consciences fly in their faces, 
bringing all their sins to their remembrance, tor- 
menting them with deepest convictions of their 
own folly, presenting them with the sight of the 
angry Judge, the worm that never dies, the fire 
that is never quenched, the gates of hell, the 
powers of darkness, and the bitter pains of 
eternal death. 

" Oh my friends ! bless God that you are not 
of this number, that you have time and strength 
to employ yourselves in such works of piety as 
may bring you peace at the last. And take this 
along with you, that there is nothing but a life 
of great piety, or a death of great stupidity, that 
can keep off these apprehensions. Had I now a 
thousand worlds, I would give them all for one 
year more, that I might present unto God one 
year of such devotion and good works, as I never 
before so much as intended. 

cc Perhaps, when you consider that I have 
lived free from scandal and debauchery, and in 
the communion of the church, you wonder to 
see me so full of remorse and self-condemna- 
tion at the approach of death. 

" But alas I what a poor tiling is it to have 



EMINENT VIRTUES REQUIRED. 41 

The surprising fact. Fatal guilt. 

lived only free from gross sins, which is all that 
1 can say of myself. But the thing that now 
surprises me above all wonders, is this, that I 
never had so much as a general intention of liv- 
ing up to the piety of the gospel! This never so 
much as entered into my head or my heart. I 
never once in my life considered whether I was 
living as the laws of religion direct, or whether 
my w r ay of life was such as would procure me 
the mercy of God at this hour. 

<c And can it be thought that I have kept the 
gospel terms of salvation, without ever so much 
as intending in anv serious and deliberate man- 
ner either to know them or keep them? Can it 
be thought that I have pleased God with such a 
life as he requires, though I have lived without 
ever considering what he requires, or how much 
I have performed? How easy a thing would 
salvation be, if it could fall into my careless 
hands, who had never had so many serious 
thoughts about it, as about any one common 
bargain that I have made ! 

" Had I only frailties and imperfections to 
lament at this time, I should lie here humbly 
trusting in the mercies of God. But alas ! how 
can I call general disregard, and thorough neg- 
lect of all religious improvement, a frailty and 
imperfection ? It was as much in my power to 
have been exact, and careful, and diligent in a 
course of piety, as in the business of my trade. 
I could have called in as many helps, have prac- 

4* 



42 SEKlOtTS CALL, 



The death. The application. 

tised as many rules, and heen taught as many cer- 
tain methods of holy living, as I could of thriving 
in my shop, had I but so intended and desired it. 

" Oh my friends ! a life, unconcerned and in- 
attentive to the duties of religion, is so without 
ail excuse, so unworthy of the mercy of God 5 
such a shame to the sense and reason of our 
minds, that I can hardly conceive a greater pun- 
ishment, than for a man to be thrown into the 
state that I am in, to reflect upon it. 35 

Penitens was here going on, but was stop- 
ped by a convulsion, which never suffered him 
to speak any more, He lay convulsed about 
twelve hours^ and then gave up the ghost. 

Now if every reader would imagine this Pent" 
tens to have been some particular acquaintance 
or relation of his, and fancy that he saw and 
heard all that is here described, that he stood by 
his bed-side when his poor friend lay in such dis- 
tress and agony, lamenting the folly of his past 
life, it would in all probability teach him such 
wisdom as never entered into his heart before. 
If to this, he should consider, how often he him- 
self might have been surprised in the same state 
of negligence, and made an example to the rest 
of the world, this double reflection, both upon 
the distress of his friend, and the goodness of 
that God, who had preserved him from it, would 
in all likelihood soften his heart into holy tem- 
pers, and make him turn the remainder of his 
life into a regular course of piety. 



EVERY EMPLOYMENT TO BE CONSECRATED. 45 

Labor, time, and fortune, to be made holy. 

This, therefore, being so useful a meditation^ 
I shall here leave the reader, as I hope, seriously 
engaged in it. 



CHAP. IV. 



WE CAN PLEASE GOD IN NO STATE OR EMPLOYMENT 
OF LIFE, BUT BY INTENDING AND DEVOTING IT ALL 
TO HIS HONOR AND GLORY. 

Having in the first chapter stated the general 
nature of devotion, and shown, that it implies 
not any form of prayer, but a form of life offered 
to God, not at particular times or places, but 
every where and in every thing; I shall now de- 
scend to some particulars, and show how we are 
to devote our labor time and fortune unto God. 

As a Christian should consider every place as 
holy, because God is there, so he should look 
upon every part of his life as a matter of holi- 
ness, because it is to be offered to God* 

The profession of a minister is a holy pro- 
fession, because it is a ministration in holy 
things, an attendance at the altar. But worldly 
business is to be made holy unto the Lord, by 
being done as a service to him, and in conform- 
ity to his divine will. For as all men and all 
things in the world, as truly belong unto God, 
as any things, or persons that are outwardly 
devoted to divine service; so all things are to be 



44 SERIOUS CALL. 



Not at liberty to live to our own humors. 

used, and all persons are to act in their several 
states and employments for the glory of God. 

Men of worldly business must not look upon 
themselves as at liberty to live to their own 
humors and tempers, because their employment 
is of a worldly nature. 

As the whole world is God's, so the whole 
world is to act for God. All men have the same 
relation to God ; all have all their powers and 
faculties from God, therefore, all are obliged to 
act for God with all their powers and faculties. 

As all things are God's, so all things are to 
be used and regarded as such. For men to 
abuse things on earth, and live to themselves, 
is the same rebellion against God, as for angels 
to abuse things in heaven; because God is just 
the same Lord of all on earth, as he is the Lord 
of all in heaven. Things may 5 and must differ 
in their use, but yet they are all to be used 
according to the will of God. 

As there is but one God and Father of us all, 
whose glory gives light and life to every thing 
that lives; whose presence fills all places, whose 
power supports all beings^ whose providence 
rules all events ; so every thing that lives, 
whether in heaven or earth, whether they be 
thrones or principalities, men or angels, they 
must all with one spirit, live wholly to the praise 
and glory of this one God and Father of them 
all. Angels as angels in their heavenly minis 
trations, but men as men, women as women, 



EVERY EMPLOYMENT TO BE CONSECRATED. 45 
The daily sacrifice. The universal obligation. 

ministers as ministers, and deacons as deacons; 
some with things spiritual, and some with things 
temporal, offering to God the daily sacrifice of a 
reasonable life, wise actions, purity of heart, 
and heavenly affections. 

This is the common business of all persons in 
this world. It is not left to any women in the 
world to trifle away their time in the follies and 
impertinences of a fashionable life, nor to any 
men to resign themselves up to worldly cares 
and concerns. It is not left to the rich to gratify 
their passions in the indulgences and pride of 
life ; nor to the poor to vex and torment their 
hearts with the poverty of their state; but men 
and women, rich and poor, must with bishops 
and priests, walk before God in the same wise 
and holy spirit, in the same denial of all vain 
tempers, and in the same discipline and care of 
their souls; not only because they have all the 
same rational nature, and are servants of the 
same God, but because they all want the same 
holiness to make them fit for the same happi- 
ness, to which they are called. It is therefore 
absolutely necessary for all Christians, whether 
men or women, to consider themselves as per- 
sons that are devoted to holiness; and so order 
their common ways of life by such rules of 
reason and piety, as may turn it into continual 
service unto Almighty God. 

Now to make our labor or employment an 
acceptable service unto God, we must carry it 



46 SERIOUS CALL, 



The proper temper, and purposes. 

on with the same spirit and temper, that is 
required in giving of alms, or any work of piety. 
For, if "whether we eat or drink, or whatso- 
ever we do, we must do all to the glory of 
God; 55 if Ave are to u use this world as if we 
used it not; 55 if we are to " present our bodies a 
living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God ; 55 if 
we are to " live by faith, and not by sight, 55 
and to "have our conversation in heaven; 55 
then it is necessary, that the common way of 
our life in every state, be made to glorify God 
by such tempers as make our prayers and adora- 
tions acceptable to him. For, if we are worldly 
or earthly-minded in our employments, if they 
are carried on with vain desires, and covetous 
tempers, we can no more be said to live to the 
glory of God, than gluttons and drunkards can 
be said to eat and drink to the glory of God. 

As the glory of God is one and the same thing, 
so whatever we do suitable to it, must be done 
with one and the same spirit. That same state 
and temper of mind which make our alms or 
devotions acceptable, must also make our labor, 
or employment, a proper offering unto God. If 
a man labors to be rich, and pursues his busi- 
ness, that he may raise himself to the world, 
he is no longer serving God ; he is acting 
under other masters, and has no more title to a 
reward from God, than he that gives alms, that 
he may be seen, or prays that he may be heard 
of men. These tempers of worldy pride and 



EVERY EMPLOYMENT TO BE CONSECRATED. 47 

Earthly employments lawful, but insignificant. 

vain glory, are not only evil, when they mix 
with our good works, but they have the same 
evil nature, and make us odious to God, when 
they enter into the common business of our 
employment. 

Most of the employments of life are in their 
own nature lawful; and may be made a substan- 
tial part of our duty to God, if we engage in 
them only so far, and for such ends, as are suit- 
able to beings, who are to live above the world, 
all the time that they live in the world. This is 
the only measure of application to any worldly 
business. Let it be what it will, or where it 
will, it must have no more of our hands, our 
hearts, or our time, than is consistent with an 
hearty, daily, careful preparation of ourselves 
for another life. 

Now he that does not look at the things of 
this life in this degree of littleness, cannot be 
said either to feel or believe the truths of Chris- 
tianity. If he thinks any thing great or impor- 
tant in human business, can he be said, to feel 
or believe those Scriptures which represent this 
life, and its greatest things, as bubbles, vapors, 
dreams, and shadows ? If he thinks figure, 
and show, and worldly glory, to be any proper 
happiness of a Christian, how can he be 
said to feel or believe this doctrine, " Blessed 
are ye when men shall hate you, and when they 
shall separate you from their company, and shall 
reproach you, and cast out your name as evil for 



43 SERIOUS CALL. 



We must do business with a heavenly temper. 

the son of man's sake. 3 ' Surely, if there was any 
real happiness in figure, and show, and worldly 
glory, it could not be matter of the highest joy, 
when we are torn from them. If, therefore, a 
man will show, that he believes the fundamental 
doctrines of Christianity, he must live above the 
world. This is the temper that must enable him 
to do the business of life, and yet live wholly 
unto God, and to go through worldly employ- 
ment with a heavenly mind. And it is as neces- 
sary, that people live in their employments with 
this temper, as it is necessary that their employ- 
ment itself be lawful. 

A tradesman may justly think that it is agree- 
able to the will of God, for him to sell such 
things as are innocent and useful ; such as 
help both himself and others to a reasonable 
support, and enable them to assist those that 
want to be assisted. But if instead of this, he 
trades only with regard to himself, without any 
other rule than his own temper — if it be his 
chief end in it to grow rich, that he may live 
in figure and indulgences, and be able to retire 
from business to idleness and luxury — his trade, 
as to him, loses all its innocency, and is so far 
from being an acceptable service to God, that it 
is only a more plausible course of covetousness, 
self-love, and ambition. Such a one turns 
the necessities of employments into pride and 
covetousness, just as the sot and epicure turn 
the necessities of eating and drinking into glut- 



EVERY EMPLOYMENT TO BE CONSECRATED. 49 

Trading and gaming. Calidus. 

tony and drunkenness. He that is up early 
and late, that sweats and labors, that he may 
be some time or other rich, and live in pleas- 
ure and indulgence, lives no more to the glory 
of God, than he that plays and gambles for 
the same ends. For though there is a great 
difference between trading and gaming, yet most 
of that difference is lost, when men trade with 
the same desires and tempers, that others game. 
Charity and fine dressing are things very differ- 
ent; but if some give alms for the same reasons 
that others dress fine, (only to be admired,) 
charity is then but like the vanity of fine clothes. 
Calidus has traded above thirty years in the 
greatest city of the kingdom; constantly in- 
creasing his trade and his fortune. Every hour 
of the day is with him an hour of business; and 
though he eats and drinks very heartily, yet 
every meal seems to be in a hurry. Calidus 
ends every day at the tavern, but lias not leisure 
to be there till near nine o'clock. He is always 
forced to drink a good hearty glass, to drive 
thoughts of business out of his head, and make 
his spirits drowsy enough for sleep. He does 
business all the time that he is rising, and has 
settled several matters before he can get to his 
counting-room. Calidus will tell you with great 
pleasure, that he has been in this hurry for so 
many years, and that it must have killed him 
long ago, but that it has been a rule with him, 
to get out of town every Saturday, and make 

5~ 



50 SERIOUS CALL. 



The Sunday repose of many. 



the Sunday a day of quiet and good refreshment 
in the country. 

He is now so rich that he would leave oft his 
business, and amuse his old age with building 
and furnishing a fine house in the country, but 
that he is afraid he should grow melancholy if 
he was to quit his business. If thoughts of 
religion happen at any time to steal into his 
head, Calidus contents himself with thinking 
that he never was a friend to heretics and infi- 
dels, that he has always been civil to the minister, 
of his parish, and very often given something 
to charity. 

Now this way of life is at such a distance 
from all the doctrine and discipline of Christi- 
anity, that no one can live in it through igno- 
rance or frailty. Calidus can no more imagine, 
that "he is born of the spirit;' 5 that he is "in 
Christ a new creature;" that he lives here as " a 
stranger and pilgrim, setting his affections upon 
things above, and laying up treasures in heaven," 
— he can no more imagine this, than he can think 
that he has been all his life an apostle, working 
miracles and preaching the gospel. 

The generality of trading people, especially in 
great towns, are too much like Calidus. You 
see them all the week buried in business, unable 
to think of any thing else; and then spending 
the Sunday in idleness and refreshment, in wan- 
dering into the country, or in visits, so as to 
make it often the worst day of the week. 



EVERY EMPLOYMENT TO BE CONSECRATED. 51 
Why so many live thu^. 



Now they do not live thus, because they 
cannot support themselves with less care and 
application to business; but they live thus be- 
cause they want to grow rich, and to maintain 
their families in such condition, as a reasonable 
Christian life had no occasion for. Take away 
but this temper, and then people of all trades, 
will find themselves at leisure to live every day 
like Christians, to be careful of every duty of 
the gospel, and to live in a visible course of 
religion. The only way to do this, is for people 
to consider their trade, as something that they 
are obliged to devote to the glory of God, some- 
thing that they are to do only in such a manner, 
as that they may make it a duty to him. No- 
thing can be right in business, that is not under 
these rules. The apostle commands servants 
" to be obedient to their masters in singleness of 
heart as unto Christ: not with eye-service as 
men-pleasers, but as the servants of Christ, 
doing the will of God from the heart: with 
good will, doing service as unto the Lord, and 
not unto men." 

This passage sufficiently shows, that all 
Christians are to live wholly unto God in every 
state and condition, doing the work of their 
common calling in such a manner, and for such 
ends, as to make it a part of their devotion or 
service to God. For if poor slaves are not to 
comply with their business as men pleasers, if 
they are to look to God in all their actions, and 



52 SERIOUS CALL. 



How far Christians may enter into business. 

serve "in singleness of hearty as unto the Lord, 33 
surely men of other employments and conditions 
must be as much obliged to go through their 
business with the same singleness of heart; not 
as pleasing the vanity of their own minds, not as 
gratifying their own selfish, worldly passions, 
but as the servants of God in all that they have 
to do. For surely no one will say that a slave 
is to devote his state of life unto God, and make 
the will of God the sole rule and end of his 
service, but that a tradesman need not act with 
the same spirit of devotion. This is as absurd, 
as to make it necessary for one man to be more 
just or faithful than another. 

It is therefore absolutely certain, that no 
Christian is to enter any further into business, 
nor for any other ends, than such as he can in 
singleness of heart offer unto God, as a reason- 
able service. The Son of God has redeemed 
us for this only end, that we should by a life of 
reason and piety, live to the glory of God. This 
is the only rule and measure for every order and 
state of life. Without this rule, the most lawful 
employment becomes a sinful state of life. Take 
away this from the life of a clergyman, and his 
holy profession serves only to expose him to 
greater damnation. Take away this from trades- 
men, and shops are but so many houses of 
greediness and filthy lucre. Take away this 
from gentlemen, and the course of their life 
becomes a course of sensuality, pride and wan- 



EVERY EMPLOYMENT TO BE CONSECRATED. 55 

The lawfulness of an employment not sufficient. 

tonness. Take away this rule from our tables, 
and all falls into gluttony and drunkenness* 
Take away this measure from our dress and 
habits, and all is turned into paint, and glitter, 
and ridiculous ornaments. Take away this from 
the use of our fortunes, and you will find people 
sparing in nothing but charity. Take away this 
from our diversions, and you will find no sports 
too silly, nor any entertainments too vain and 
corrupt to be the pleasure of Christians. 

So that men must not content themselves with 
the lawfulness of their employments, but must 
consider whether they use them as they are to 
use every thing, as strangers and pilgrims, that 
are to follow him in a wise and heavenly course 
of life, in the mortification of all worldly desires, 
and in purifying and preparing their souls for 
the blessed enjoyment of God. 

To be vain, or proud, or covetous, or ambi- 
tious in the common course of our business, is as 
contrary to these holy tempers of Christianity, 
as cheating and dishonesty. If a glutton was to 
say in excuse of his gluttony, that he only eats 
such things as it is lawful to eat, he would make 
as good an excuse for himself as the greedy, 
covetous, ambitious tradesman, that should say, 
he only deals in lawful business. As a Christian 
is not only required to be honest, but to be of a 
Christian spirit, so all tempers that are contrary 
to these, are as contrary to Christianity, as 
cheating is contrary to honesty. 

5* 



64 SERIOUS CALL. 



The ruling habit of mind to be regarded. 

If we could so divide ourselves, as to be hum- 
ble in some respects, and proud in others, such 
humility would be of no service to us, because 
God as truly requires us to be humble in all our 
actions and designs, as he does to be honest in 
all our actions and designs. And as a man is 
not honest, because he is so to a great many 
people, or upon several occasions, but because 
truth and honesty is the measure of all his 
dealings with every body; so is the case in 
humility, or any other temper, it must be the 
general ruling habit of our minds and extend 
itself to all our actions and designs. 

We sometimes talk, as if a man might be 
humble in some things and proud in others, 
humble in his dress, but proud of his learning, 
humble in his person, but proud in his views and 
designs. But though this may pass in common 
discourse, where few things are said according 
to strict truth, it cannot be allowed when we 
examine into the nature of our actions. It is 
very possible for a man that lives by cheating, to 
be very punctual in paying for what he buys; 
but then every one is assured, that he does not 
do so out of any principle of true honesty* It is 
very possible for a man that is proud of his 
estate, ambitious in his views, or vain of his 
learning, to disregard his dress, and person, in 
such a manner as a truly humble man would do. 
But to suppose that he does so out of a true 
principle of humility, is as absurd as to suppose 



Evert employment to be consecrated. 55 

Prayers and alms. Ostentation. 

that a cheat pays for what he buys, out of a 
principle of honesty* 

As therefore all kinds of dishonesty destroy 
our pretences to an honest principle of mind, so 
all kinds of pride destroy our pretences to an 
humble spirit. 

No one wonders that those prayers and alms, 
which proceed from pride and ostentation are 
odious to God; but yet it is as easy to show, that 
pride is as pardonable there, as any where else, 
If we could suppose that God rejects pride in 
our prayers and alms 5 but bears with it in 
dress, person, or estate, it would be the same 
thing as to suppose that God condemns false- 
hood in some actions^ but allows it in others. 
For pride in one thing differs from pride in 
another thing, as the robbing of one man dif- 
fers from the robbing of another. 

Again, if pride and ostentation is so odious 
that it destroys the merit of the most reasonable 
actions, it must be equally odious in those ac- 
tions, which are only founded in the infirmity 
of our nature. Thus^ alms are commanded by 
God, as excellent in themselves, as true instan- 
ces of divine temper, but clothes are only allowed 
to cover our shame; surely therefore it must at 
least be as odious a degree of pride, to be vain 
in our clothes, as to be vain in our alms. 

Again, we are commanded to pray without 
ceasing, as a means of rendering our souls more 
exalted and divine, but we are forbidden to lay 



56 SERIOUS CALL 



Dress. Sobriety. Honesty. 

up for ourselves treasures upon earth; and can 
we think that it is not as bad to be vain of those 
treasures which we are forbidden to lay up, 
as to be vain of those prayers which we are 
commanded to make. 

Women are required to have their heads cov- 
ered, and to adorn themselves with shamefaced- 
ness. If therefore they are vain in those things 
which are expressly forbidden, if they patch and 
paint that part, which can only be adorned by 
shamefacedness, surely they have as much to 
repent of for such a pride as they have, whose 
pride is the motive to their prayers and charity. 
This must be granted, unless we will say, that it 
is more pardonable to glory in our shame, than 
to glory in our virtue. 

These instances are only to show us the great 
necessity of such a regular and uniform piety, as 
extends itself to all the actions of our common 
life. 

We must eat, and drink, and dress, and dis- 
course, according to the sobriety of the Christian 
spirit, and engage in no employments but such 
as we can truly devote unto God, nor pursue 
them any farther than so far as conduces to the 
reasonable ends of a holy life. 

We must be honest, not only on particular 
occasions, and in such instances as are applaud- 
ed in the world, easy to be performed and 
free from danger or loss, but from such a living 
principle of justice, as makes us love truth and 



EVERY EMPLOYMENT TO EE CONSECRATED. 57 

Humility. Prayer. 

integrity in all its instances, and follow it through 
all dangers, and against all opposition. 

We must be humble, not only in such in- 
stances as are expected in the world, or suita- 
ble to our inclinations, or confined to particular 
occasions; but in such a humility of spirit, as 
renders us meek and lowly in the whole course 
of our lives, as shows itself in our dress, our 
persons, our conversation, our enjoyment of the 
world, the tranquillity of our minds, patience 
under injuries, submission to superiors, and con- 
descensions to those that are below us, and in all 
the outward actions of our lives. 

We must devote not only times and places 
to prayer, but be every where in the spirit 
of devotion, with hearts always set towards 
heaven, looking up to God in all our actions, 
and doing every thing as his servants; living 
m the world as in a holy temple of God, and 
always worshipping him, though not with our 
lips, yet with the thankfulness of our hearts, 
the holiness of our actions^ and the pious and 
charitable use of all his gifts. That we must 
not only send up petitions and thoughts now 
and then to Heaven, but must go through all 
our worldly business with a heavenly spirit, as 
members of Christ's mystical body, who with 
new hearts, and new minds, are to turn an 
earthly life into a preparation for a life of great- 
ness and glory in the kingdom of heaven. 

Enough, I hope, has been said to show the 



59 SERIOUS CALL. 



No one must live according to his own humor. 

necessity of thus introducing religion into all the 
actions of your common life, and of living and 
acting with the same regard to God in all that 
you do, as in your prayers and alms. 



CHAP. V. 

PERSONS THAT ARE FREE FROM THE NECESSITY OF 
LABOR ARE TO CONSIDER THEMSELVES AS DEVOTED 
TO GOD IN A HIGHER DEGREE. 

As no one is to live in his employment ac- 
cording to his own humor, or for such ends as 
please his own fancy, but is to do all his busi- 
ness in such a manner, as to make it a service 
to God 5 so those who have no particular em- 
ployment, are so far from being left at greater 
liberty to live to themselves, to pursue their own 
humors, and spend their time and fortune as 
they please, that they are under greater obli- 
gations of living wholly to God in all their 
actions. They are those, of whom much will 
be required, because much is given unto them. 

A slave can only live unto God in one partic- 
ular way; that is, by religious patience and sub- 
mission in his state of slavery. But all ways of 
holy living, all instances, and all kinds of virtue, 
lie open to those who are masters of themselves, 
their time and their fortune. 



DUTY OF THOSE WHO HAVE LEISURE. 59 

Serena. The five talents. 



You are no laborer, or tradesman; you are 
neither merchant nor soldier; consider yourself, 
therefore, as placed in a state, in some degree 
like that of good angels, who are sent into the 
world as ministering spirits, for the general good 
of mankind, to assist, protect, and minister for 
them who shall be heirs of salvation. For the 
more you are free from the common necessities 
of men, the more you are to imitate the higher 
perfections of angels. 

Had you, Serena, been obliged by the neces- 
sities of life, to wash clothes for your mainte- 
nance, or to wait upon some mistress, that 
demanded all your labor, it would then be your 
duty to serve and glorify God, by such humility, 
obedience, and faithfulness, as might adorn that 
state of life. It would then be recommended to 
your care, to improve that one talent to its 
greatest height. That when the time came that 
mankind were to be rewarded for their labors by 
the great Judge, vou might be received with a 
" well done good and faithful servant, enter 
thou into the joy of the Lord." 

But as God has given you five talents, as he 
has placed you above the necessities of life, he 
has left you in the happy liberty of choosing 
the most exalted ways of virtue. As he has 
enriched you with many gifts of fortune, and 
left you nothing to do, but to make the best use 
of variety of blessings; to make the most of a 
short life, to study your own perfection, the 



60 SERIOUS CALL, 



The soul to be daily served with care. 

honor of God and the good of your neighbor; 
so it is now your duty to imitate the greatest 
servants of God., to inquire how the most emi- 
nent saints have lived , to study all the arts and 
methods of perfection., and to set no bounds to 
your love and gratitude to the bountiful Author 
of so many blessings. It is now your duty to 
turn your five talents into five more, and to 
consider how your time, leisure, health, and 
fortune, may be made so many happy means 
of purifying your soul, improving your fellow 
creatures, and of carrying you to the greatest 
heights of eternal glory. 

As you have no mistress to serve, let your 
own soul be the object of your daily care and 
attendance. Be sorry for its impurities, spots 
and imperfections, and study all the holy arts 
of restoring it to its natural and primitive 
purity. Delight in its service, and beg of God 
to adorn it with every grace and perfection. 
Nourish it with good works, give it peace in 
solitude, get it strength in prayer, make it wise 
with reading, enlighten it by meditation, make 
it tender with love, sweeten it with humility, 
humble it with patience, enliven it with psalms 
and hymns, and comfort it with frequent re- 
flections upon future glory. Keep it in the 
presence of God, and teach it to imitate those 
guardian angels, who, though they attend to 
the lowest human affairs, yet " always behold 
the face of our Father which is in heaven." 



DUTY OF THOSE WHO HAVE LEISURE. 61 

The universal command. The reason. 

This, Serena, is your profession. For as sure 
as God is one God, so sure it is, that he has but 
one command to all mankind, whether they be 
bond or free, rich or poor; and that is, to act up 
to the excellency of that nature which he has 
given to them; to live by reason, to walk in the 
light of religion, to use every thing as wisdom 
directs, and dedicate e\erj condition of life to 
his service. 

The reason why we are to do any thing as 
unto God, and with regard to our duty, and 
relation to him, is the same reason, why we are 
to do every thing as unto God, and with regard 
to our duty, and relation to him. That, which 
is a reason for our being wise and holy in the 
discharge of all our business, is the same reason 
for our being wise and holy in the use of all our 
money. As we have always the same nature, 
and are every where the servants of the same 
God, as every place is equally full of his pres- 
ence, and every thing is equally his gift, so we 
must always act according to the reason of our 
nature; we must do every thing as the servants 
of God; we must live in every place, as in his 
presence; we must use every thing, as that 
which belongs to God. 

Either this piety is to go through every way 
of life, and to extend to the use of every thing, 
or it is to go through no part of life. If we 
might forget ourselves, or forget God, at any 

6 



62 SERIOUS CALL, 



Religion is to rule us in all things. 



time, or in any place, it would be as lawful to 
do the same, at every time, and every place. 

If therefore, some people fancy that they must 
be grave at church, but may be silly at home; 
that they must live by rule on Sunday, but may 
spend other days by chance; that they must 
have some times of prayer, but may waste the 
rest of their time as they please; that they must 
give some money in charity, but may spend the 
rest as they have a mind; such people have not 
enough considered the nature of religion. For 
he that upon principles of reason, can tell why 
it is good to be wise and heavenly minded at 
church, can tell that it is always desirable, to 
have the same tempers in all other places. He 
that truly knows, why he should spend any time 
well, knows that it is never allowable to throw 
any time away. He that rightly understands 
the reasonableness and excellency of charity, 
will know that it can never be excusable to 
waste any money in pride and folly, or any 
needless expenses. 

If any one could show, that we need not 
always act as in the divine presence, that we 
need not consider and use every thing, as the 
gift of God, that we need not always live by 
reason, and make religion the rule of all our 
actions, the same arguments would show, that 
we need never act as in the presence of God, 
nor make religion and reason the measure of 
any of our actions. 



DUTY OF THOSE WHO HAVE LEISURE. t)3 

Our glory and happiness. A mistake. 

If therefore we are to live unto God at any 
time, or in any place, we are to live unto him 
at all times, and all places. If we are to use any 
thing as the gift of God, we are to use every 
thing as his gift. If we are to do any thing by 
strict rules of reason and piety, we ought to do 
every thing in the same manner. Because rea- 
son, and wisdom, and piety, are as much the best 
things at all times, and in all places, as they are 
at any time, or in any place. 

If it is our glory and happiness to have a 
rational nature, that is endued with wisdom and 
reason, and is capable of imitating the divine 
nature; then it must be our glory and happiness, 
to improve our reason and wisdom, to act up to 
the excellency of our rational nature, and to imi- 
tate God in all our actions, to the utmost of our 
power. They therefore, who confine religion to 
times and places, and some little rules of retire- 
ment, who think that it is being too strict and 
rigid to introduce religion into common life, and 
make it give laws to all their actions and ways 
of living, not only mistake, but they mistake the 
whole nature of religion. For surely they mis- 
take the whole nature of religion, who can think 
any part of their life is made more easy, for 
being free from it. They may well be said to 
mistake the whole nature of wisdom, who do 
not think it desirable to be always wise. He 
has not learned the nature of piety, who thinks 
it too much to be pious in all his actions. He 



64 SERIOUS CALL. 



Religion not grievous. An immutable law. 

does not sufficiently understand what reason is, 
who does not earnestly desire to live in every 
thing according to it. 

If we had a religion that consisted in absurd 
superstitions, that had no regard to the perfec- 
tion of our nature, people might well be glad to 
have some part of their life excused from it. 
But as the religion of the gospel is only the re- 
finement and exaltation of our best faculties, as 
it only requires a life of the highest reason, as it 
only requires us to use this world as in reason it 
ought to be used, to live in such tempers as are 
the glory of intelligent beings, to walk in such 
wisdom as exalts our nature, and to practice 
such piety, as will raise us to God ; who can 
think it grievous, to live always in the spirit of 
such a religion, to have every part of his life 
full of it, but he that would think it much more 
grievous, to be as the angels of God in heaven ? 

It is an immutable law of God, that all ra- 
tional beings should act reasonably; not at this 
time, or in that place, or in the use of some par- 
ticular thing, but at all times, in. all places, and 
in the use of all things. This is a law that is as 
unchangeable as God, and can no more cease to 
be, than God can cease to be a God of wisdom 
and order. When therefore any being that is 
endued with reason does an unreasonable thing 
at any time, or in any place, or in the use of any 
thing, it sins against the great law of its na- 
ture, and against God the author of that nature. 



DUTY OF THOSE WHO HAVE LEISURE. 65 

No folly really small. Infirmities. 

They therefore, who plead for indulgences and 
vanities, for any foolish fashions, customs and 
humors of the world, or for the misuse of our 
time or money, plead for a rebellion against 
our nature, and a rebellion against God. 

When therefore you are guilty of any folly or 
extravagance, or indulge any vain temper, do 
not consider it as a small matter, because it may 
seem so, if compared to some other sins; but 
consider it as it is, acting contrary to your na- 
ture, and then you will see that there is nothing 
small that is unreasonable. Because all unrea- 
sonable ways are contrary to the nature of all 
rational beings, whether men or angels. Nei- 
ther of which can be any longer agreeable to 
God, than so far as they act according to the 
reason and excellence of their nature. 

The infirmities of human life make such food 
and raiment necessary for us, as angels do not 
want : but then it is no more allowable for us to 
turn these necessities into follies, and indulge 
ourselves in the luxury of food, or the vanities 
of dress, than it is allowable for angels to act 
below the dignity of their proper state. For a 
reasonable life, and a wise use of our proper 
condition, is as much the duty of all men, as it is 
the duty of all angels and intelligent beings. 
These are not speculative flights, or imaginary 
notions, but are plain and undeniable laws, that 
are founded in the nature of rational beings, 
who as such are obliged to live by reason, and 

6* 



66 SERIOUS CALL, 

A consideration of the state of angels. 

glorify God by a continual right use of their sev«* 
eral talents and faculties. So that though men 
are not angels, yet they may know for what ends, 
and by what rules men are to live and act, by con- 
sidering the state and perfection of angels. Our 
blessed Savior has plainly turned our thoughts 
this way, by making this petition a constant part 
of all our prayers, " Thy will be done on earth 
as it is in heaven** 3 A plain proof that the obe- 
dience of men, is to imitate the obedience of 
angels, and that rational beings on earth, are to 
live unto God, as rational beings in heaven live 
unto him. 

When therefore you would represent to your 
mind, how Christians ought to live unto God, 
and in what degrees of wisdom and holiness they 
ought to use the things of this life; you must not 
look at the world, but you must look up to God 
and the society of angels, and think what wisdom 
and holiness is fit to prepare you for such a state 
of glory; you must look to all the highest precepts 
of the gospel; you must examine yourself by the 
spirit of Christ; you must think how the wisest 
men in the world have lived; you must think 
how departed souls would live, if they were 
again to act the short part of human life; you 
must think what degrees of wisdom and holiness 
you will wish for, when your are leaving the 
world. 

Now this is not over-straining the matter, 
or proposing to ourselves any needless perfec- 



A WISE AND RELIGIOUS USE OF FORTUNE. 67 

Universal consecration required. The reason. 

tion. It is but bravely complying with the apos- 
tle's advice, where he says, " Finally brethren, 
whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things 
are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatso- 
ever things are of good report; if there be any 
virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these 
things." For no one can come near the doc- 
trine of this passage, but he that proposes to 
himself to do every thing in this life as a servant 
of God, to live by reason in every thing that he 
does, and to make the wisdom and holiness of 
the gospel, the rule and measure of his desiring 
and using every gift of God. 



CHAP. VI. 

THE GREAT OBLIGATIONS AND ADVANTAGES OF MAKING 
A WISE AND RELIGIOUS USE OF OUR ESTATES. 

As the holiness of Christianity consecrates all 
states and employments of life unto God, as it 
requires us to aspire after universal obedience, 
doing and using every thing as the servants of 
God, so are we more especially obliged to ob- 
serve this religious exactness, in the use of 
our estates and fortunes. 

The reason of this w r ould appear very plain, 
if we were only to consider, that our estate is 
as much the gift of God, as our eyes, or our 
hands, and is no more to be thrown away, than 



68 SERIOUS CALL, 



Two other great considerations. 



we are to put out our eyes, or throw away our 
limbs. 

But besides this consideration there are sev- 
eral other important reasons, why we should be 
religiously exact in the use of our estates. 

1st. Because the manner of using our money, 
or spending our estate, enters so far into the 
business of every day, that our common life must 
be much of the same nature, as our common 
way of spending our estate. If reason and reli- 
gion govern us in this, then reason and religion 
hath got great hold of us; but if humor, pride 
and fancy, are the measures of our spending our 
estates, then humor, pride and fancy, will have 
the direction of the greatest part of our life. 

2d. Another great reason for devoting all our 
estate to right uses, is this, because it is capable 
of being used to the most excellent purposes. 
If we waste it, we do not waste a trifle, but 
we waste that which might be made as eyes 
to the blind, as a husband to the widow, as 
a father to the orphan. We waste that, which 
hot only enables us to minister worldly comforts 
to those who are in distress, but that which might 
purchase for ourselves everlasting treasures in 
heaven.* So that if we part with our money in 
foolish ways, we part with a great power of 

* The author here alludes to the reward of grace, not of debt, 
which is promised to those who religiously improve their talents 
on earth ; seeing we are finally to receive " according to the 
deeds done in the body." — Ed. 



A WISE AND RELIGIOUS USE OF FORTUNE. 69 

Spare money. Spare eyes. Spare hands and feet. 

comforting our fellow-creatures , and of making 
ourselves more blessed. If there be nothing 
so glorious as doing good, if there be nothing 
that makes us so like God, then nothing can 
be so glorious in the use of our money, as to 
use it in works of love and goodness, making 
ourselves friends, fathers, benefactors, to all our 
fellow creatures, imitating the divine love, and 
turning all our power into acts of generosity, 
care and kindness, to such as are in need 
of it. 

If a man had eyes, hands, and feet, that he 
could give to those who wanted them; if he 
should either lock them up in a chest, or please 
himself with some needless or ridiculous use of 
them, instead of giving them to his brethren 
w T ho were blind and lame, should we not justly 
reckon him an inhuman wretch? If he should 
rather choose to amuse himself with furnishing 
his house with those things, than to entitle him- 
self to an eternal reward, by giving them to 
those that wanted eyes and hands, might we not 
justly reckon him mad? Now money has very 
much the nature of eyes and feet; if we lock it 
up in chests, or waste it in needless expenses 
upon ourselves, while the distressed want it for 
their necessary uses; if we consume it in the 
ridiculous ornaments of apparel, while others 
are starving in nakedness, we are not far from 
the cruelty of him that chooses rather to adorn 
his house with hands and eyes, than to give 



70 SERIOUS CALL. 



Locking up eyes and hands. Money wasted. 

them to those that want them. If we choose to 
indulge ourselves in such enjoyments, as have 
no real use in them, and satisfy no real want, 
rather than to obtain an eternal reward, by dis- 
posing of our money well, we are guilty of his 
madness, that chooses to lock up eyes and hands, 
rather than to make himself for ever blessed, by 
giving them to those that want them. 

After we have satisfied our sober and reason- 
able wants, all the rest of our money is but like 
spare eyes, or hands; it is something that we 
cannot keep to ourselves, without being foolish 
in the use of it, something that can only be used 
well, by giving it to those who want it. 

3d. If we waste our money, we are not only 
guilty of wasting a talent which God has given 
us — we are not only guilty of making that use- 
less, which is so powerful a means of doing good, 
but we do ourselves this farther harm, that we 
turn this useful talent into a powerful means of 
corrupting ourselves. Because so far as it is 
spent wrong, so far it is spent in the support of 
some wrong temper, in gratifying some unrea- 
sonable desires, in conforming to those fash- 
ions of the world, which, as Christians, we are 
obliged to renounce. 

Wit and fine parts cannot be trifled away and 
only lost, but will expose those that have them 
into greater follies. So money, if not used 
strictly according to reason and religion, cannot 
only be trifled away, but it will betray us into 



A WISE AND RELIGIOUS USE OF FORTUNE. 71 

To waste money is to hurt ourselves. 

greater follies, and make us live a more silly and 
extravagant life. If, therefore, you do not spend 
your money in doing good to others, you must 
spend it to the hurt of yourself. You will act 
like a man who should refuse to give that as a 
cordial to a sick friend, which he could not drink 
himself without inflaming his blood. Super- 
fluous money, if given to those that want it, is a 
cordial; if spent upon yourself, in something 
that you do not want, it only disorders your 
mind, and makes you worse than you would be 
without it. 

Consider again the forementioned comparison. 
If the man that would not make a right use of 
spare eyes and hands, should, by continually 
trying to use them himself, spoil his own eyes 
and hands, we might justly accuse him of still 
greater madness. Now this is truly the case of 
riches spent upon ourselves in vain and needless 
expenses. In trying to use them where they 
jaave no real use, nor we any real want, we only 
use them to our great hurt, in creating unreason- 
able desires, nourishing ill tempers, indulging 
our passions, and supporting a worldly mind. 
High eating and drinking, fine clothes, and 
houses, and equipage, gay pleasures, and diver- 
sions, do all naturally hurt and disorder our 
hearts. They are the nourishment of all the 
folly and weakness of our nature, and certain 
means to make us vain and worldly. They all 
support something that ought not to be support- 



72 SERIOUS CALL. 



Genera! considerations. 



ed; and are contrary to that sobriety which 
relishes divine things. They are like so many 
weights upon our minds, that make us less able, 
and less inclined to raise our thoughts and af- 
fections to things above. So much as is spent 
in the vanity of dress, may be reckoned laid out 
to fix vanity in our minds. So much as is laid 
out for idle indulgence, may be reckoned given 
to render our hearts sensual. So much as is 
spent in state and equipage, may be reckoned 
as spent to dazzle your own eyes, and render 
you the idol of your own imagination. So in 
every thing, when you go from reasonable 
wants, you only support some unreasonable 
temper. 

Thus, on all accounts, whether we consider 
our fortune as a talent and trust from God, or 
the great good that it enables us to do, or the 
great harm that it does to ourselves, if idly spent; 
it appears that it is absolutely necessary, to make 
reason and religion the strict rule of using our 
fortune. 

Every exhortation in Scripture to be wise and 
reasonable, satisfying only such wants as God 
would have satisfied — every exhortation to be 
spiritual, pressing after a glorious change of our 
nature — every exhortation to love our neighbor 
as ourselves, to love all mankind as God has 
loved them, is a command to be strictly religious 
in the use of money. These tempers, and this 
use of worldly goods, is so much the doctrine of 



A WISE AND RELIGIOUS USE OF FORTUNE. 78 

The day of judgment. 

all the New Testament, that you cannot read 
a chapter, without being taught something of 
it. I shall only produce one remarkable pas- 
sage, which is sufficient to justify all that I have 
said concerning this religious use of all our for- 
tune. "When the Son of Man shall come in 
his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then 
shall he sit upon the throne of his glory. And 
before him shall be gathered all nations; and 
he shall separate them one from another, as a 
shepherd divideth the sheep from the goats; and 
he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the 
goats on the left. Then shall the King say unto 
them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my 
Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you 
from the foundation of the world. For I was 
an hungered, and ye gave me meat ; I was 
thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, 
and ye took me in; naked and ye clothed me; I 
was sick and ye visited me; I was in prison and 
ye came unto me. Then shall he say unto them 
on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, 
into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and 
his angels : for I was an hungered, and ye gave 
me no meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me no 
drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me not in; 
naked, and ye clothed me not; sick, and in 
prison, and ye visited me not. These shall go 
away into everlasting punishment, but the 
righteous into life eternal." 

I have quoted this passage at length, because 
7 



74 SERIOUS CALL. 



Faith without works is dead. 



if one looks at the way of the world, one would 
hardly think that Christians had ever read this 
part of Scripture. Some people, even of those 
who may be reckoned virtuous Christians, look 
upon this text only as a general recommenda- 
tion of occasional works of charity; whereas it 
shows the necessity not only of occasional 
charities, but of such an entire charitable life, 
as is a continual exercise of all such works of 
charity as we are able to perform. 

You own that you have no title to salvation, 
if you have neglected these good works; be- 
cause such persons as have neglected them, are 
at the last day to be placed on the left hand, and 
banished with a " Depart, ye cursed." There 
is, therefore, no salvation but in the performance 
of these good works; for "faith without works 
is dead." Who is it, therefore, that may be 
said to have performed these good works ? Is it 
he that has sometimes assisted a prisoner, or 
relieved the poor or sick? This would be 
as absurd, as to say, that he had performed 
the duties of devotion, who had sometimes said 
his prayers. Is it he that has several times done 
these works of charity ? This can no more be 
said, than he can be said to be the truly just 
man, who had done acts of justice several times. 

What is the rule, therefore, or measure of 
performing these good works? How shall a 
man trust that he performs them as he ought? 
The rule is very plain and easy, and such as 



A WISE AND RELIGIOUS USE OF FORTUNE. 75 

A plain rule. A plain reason. 

is common to every other virtue, as well as to 
charity. Who is the humble, or meek, or de- 
vout, or just, or faithful man? Is it he that has 
several times done acts of humility s meekness, 
devotion, justice, or fidelity? No. But it is he 
that lives in the habitual exercise of these vir- 
tues. So he only can be said to have performed 
these works of charity, who lives in the habitual 
exercise of them to the utmost of his power. 

The reason of all this is very plain, because 
there is the same goodness, the same excellency, 
and the same necessity of being thus charitable 
at one time, as at another. That which is a 
reason for a charitable action, is as good a reason 
for a charitable life. That which is a reason for 
forgiving one offence, is the same reason for 
forgiving all offences. For such charity has 
nothing to recommend it to day, but what will 
be the same recommendation of it to morrow. 
You cannot neglect it at one time, without being 
guilty of the same sin, as if you neglected it 
another time. 

If therefore it be our duty at any time to deny 
ourselves any needless expenses, to be moderate 
and frugal, that we may have to give to those 
that want, it is as much our duty to do so at all 
times, that we may be able to do more. If it is 
at any time a sin to prefer needless expense, to 
works of charity, it is so at all times: because 
charity as much excels needless and vain ex- 
pense, at one time as at another. 

Either therefore vou must so far renounce 



76 SERIOUS CALL. 



Several plain inferences. 



your Christianity, as to say, that you need never 
perform any good works; or you must own, that 
you are to perform them all your life in as high 
a decree as vou are able, There is no middle 
way, any more than there is a middle w^ay be- 
tween pride and humility, or temperance and 
intemperance. If you do not strive to fulfil all 
charitable works, if you neglect any of them that 
are in your power, let it be when it will, or 
where it will, you number yourself among those 
that want Christian charity. Because it is as 
much your duty to do good with all that you 
have, and to live in the continual exercise of 
good works, as it is your duty to be temperate 
in all that you eat and drink. 

Hence also appears the necessity of renounc- 
ing all those foolish and unreasonable expenses, 
which the pride and folly of mankind has made 
so common and fashionable in the world, If it 
is necessary to do good works as far as you are 
able, it must be as necessary to renounce those 
needless ways of spending money, which render 
you unable to do them. 

You must therefore no more conform to the 
ways of the world, than you must conform to the 
vices of the world. You must no more spend 
with those that idly waste their money, than 
you must drink with the drunken, or indulge 
yourself with the epicure. A course of such 
expenses is no more consistent with a life of 
charity, than excess in drinking is consistent 
with a life of sobrietv. 



THE CHARACTER OF FLAVIA. 



CHAP. VII. 

THE IMPRUDENT USE OF AN ESTATE, REPRESENTED IN 
THE CHARACTER OF FLAVIA. 

It has been observed, that a prudent and 
religious care is to be used, in the manner of 
spending our money, because it makes so great 
a part of our common life, and is so much the 
business of every day, that according as we are 
wise, or imprudent, in this respect, the whole 
course of cur lives, will be rendered either very 
wise, or very full of folly* 

Persons that are well affected to religion, that 
receive instructions of piety with pleasure and 
satisfaction, often wonder how it comes to pass 
that they make no greater progress in that re- 
ligion which they so much admire. 

Nov/ the reason of it is this: religion lives 
only in their head; something else has possession 
of their hearts. Therefore they continue from 
year to year mere admirers, and praisers of 
piety, without ever coming up to the reality and 
perfection of its precepts. If it be asked why 
religion does not get possession of their hearts, 
the reason is, not because they live in gross sins, 
for their regard to religion preserves them from 
such disorders : But because their hearts are 
constantly kept in a wrong state, by the indis- 
creet use of such things as are lawful to be used. 

The use and enjoyment of their estates is law- 

7 * 



78 SSKIOITS CALL, 



The sinful abuse of lawful things. 



ful, and therefore it never comes into their heads 
to imagine any great danger from that quarter* 
They never reflect, that there is a vain, and 
imprudent use of their estates,, which though it 
does not destroy like gross sins, yet so disorders 
the hearty as makes it incapable of receiving the 
life and spirit of piety. 

Our souls may receive an infinite hurt, and be 
rendered incapable of all virtue, merely by the 
use of innocent and lawful things. Nothing is 
more innocent than rest. And yet w T hat more 
dangerous, than sloth ? Nothing is more lawful 
than eating and drinking. And yet what more 
destructive of all virtue, what more fruitful of 
all vice, than sensuality ? The care of a family 
is lawful and praise-worthy* And yet how are 
many people rendered incapable of all virtue* 
by a worldly and solicitous temper ? 

It is for want of religious exactness in the 
use of such innocent and lawful things, that 
religion cannot get possession of our hearts- 
And it is in the right and prudent management 
of ourselves^ as to these things, that the art of 
holy living chiefly consists. 

Gross sins are plainly seen, and easily avoided 
by persons that profess religion. But the indis- 
creet and dangerous use of innocent and lawful 
things, as it does not shock and offend our con- 
science, so it is difficult to make people at all 
sensible of the danger of it, A gentleman who 
spends all his estate in sports, and a woman that 



THE CHARACTER OF FLAVIA. 79 



Flavians management. her orthodoxy. 

lays out all her fortune upon herself, can hardly 
be persuaded that the spirit of religion cannot 
subsist in such a way of life. 

A woman who loves dress, and thinks no 
expense too great to bestow upon the adorning 
of her person, cannot stop there. That temper 
draws a thousand other follies along with it, and 
will render the whole course of her life, her 
business, her conversation, her hopes, her fears, 
her taste, her pleasures, and diversions^ all 
suitable to it. 

Flavia and Miranda are two maiden sisters, 
who have each of them two hundred pounds a 
year. They buried their parents twenty years 
ago, and have since that time spent their estate 
as they pleased. 

Flavia has been the wonder of all her friends, 
for her excellent management, in making so 
surprising a figure on so moderate a fortune. 
Several ladies that have twice her fortune, are 
not able always to be so genteel, and so constant 
at all places of pleasure and expense. She has 
every thing that is in the fashion, and is in every 
place where there is any diversion. Flavia is 
very orthodox ; she talks warmly against here- 
tics, and schismatics, is generally at church, and 
often at the sacrament. She once commended 
a sermon that was against the pride and vanity 
of dress, and thought it was very just against 
Lucinda, whom she takes to be a great deal finer 
than she need to be. If any one asks Flavia to 



80 SERIOUS CALL* 



Flavia's charity. Her reading. 

do something in charity, if she likes the person 
who makes the proposal, or happens to be in a 
right temper, she will give him half a crown, or 
a crown 5 and tell him, if he knew what a long 
milliner's bill she had just received, he would 
think it a great deal for her to give. A quarter 
of a year after this, she hears a sermon upon 
the necessity of charity ; she thinks the man 
preaches well, that it is a very proper subject, 
that people want much to be put in mind of it; 
but she applies nothing to herself, because she 
remembers that she gave a crown some time 
ago, when she could so ill spare it. As for poor 
people, she will admit of no complaints from 
them; she is very positive they are all cheats 
and liars, and will say any thing to get relief, 
and therefore it must be a sin to encourage them 
in their evil ways. You would think Flavia had 
the tenderest conscience in the world, if you 
was to see how scrupulous and apprehensive she 
is of the guilt and danger of giving amiss. 

She buys all books of wit and humor, and 
has made an expensive collection of English 
Poets. For ? she says, one cannot have a true 
taste of any of them, without being very con- 
versant with them all. She will sometimes read 
a book of piety, if it is a short one, and is much 
commended for style and language, and she can 
tell where to borrow it. 

Flavia would be a miracle of piety, if she 
was but half so careful of her soul as she is of 



THE CHARACTER OF FLAVIA. 81 

Care of health. Sunday company. 

her body. The rising of a pimple in her face, 
or the sting of a gnat, will make her keep her 
room, and she thinks they are very rash people, 
that do not take care of things in time. This 
makes her so careful of her health, that she 
never thinks she is well enough; and so indul- 
gent, that she never can be really well. So that 
it costs her a great deal in sleeping-draughts, 
and waking-draughts, in spirits for the head, in 
drops for the nerves, in cordials for the stomach, 
and in saffron for her tea. 

If you visit Flavia on the Sunday, you will 
always meet good company, you will know what 
is doing in the world, you will hear the last 
lampoon, be told who wrote it, and who is 
meant by every name that is in it. You will 
hear what plays were acted that week, which is 
the finest song in the opera, who was intolerable 
at the last assembly; and what games are most 
in fashion. Flavia thinks they are atheists that 
play at cards on the Sunday, but she will tell 
you the nicety of all the games, what cards she 
held, how she- played them, and the history of 
all that happened at play, as soon as she comes 
from church. If you would know who is rude 
and ill-natured, who is vain and foppish, who 
lives too high, and who is in debt — if you would 
know what is the quarrel at a certain house, or 
who are in love — if you would know how late 
Belinda comes home at night, what clothes she 
has bought, how she loves compliments, and 



82 SERIOUS CALL. 



The sum-total of Flavia's life. 



what a long story she told at such a place — if 
you would know how cross Lucius is to his wife, 
what ill-natured things he says to her when no- 
body hears him — if you would know how they 
hate one another in their hearts, though they 
appear so kind in public; you must visit Flavia 
on the Sunday. But still she has so great a 
regard for the holiness of the day, that she has 
turned a poor old widow out of her house, as 
a profane wretch, for having been found once 
mending her clothes on the Sunday night. 

Thus lives Flavia; and if she lives ten years 
longer, she will have spent about fifteen hundred 
and sixty Sundays after this manner. She will 
have wore about two hundred different suits of 
clothes. Out of this thirty years of her life, 
fifteen of them will have been disposed of in 
bed; and of the remaining fifteen, about four- 
teen will have been consumed in eating, drink- 
ing, dressing, visiting, conversation, reading and 
hearing plays and romances, at operas, assem- 
blies, balls and diversions. For you may reckon 
all the time she is up, thus spent, except about 
an hour and a half, that is disposed of at church, 
'most Sundays in the year. With great man- 
agement and under mighty rules of economy, 
she will have spent sixty hundred pounds upon 
herself, bating only some shillings, crowns, or 
half-crowns, that have gone from her in acci- 
dental charities. 

I shall not take upon me to say, that it is 



THE CHARACTER OF FLAVIA. 



Reflections on this character 



impossible for Flavia to be saved; but thus much 
must be said, that she has no grounds from 
Scripture to think she is in the way of salvation. 
Her whole life is in direct opposition to all 
those tempers and practices, which the gospel 
has made necessary to salvation. 

If you was to hear her say, that she had lived 
all her life like Anne the prophetess, " who 
departed not from the temple, but served God 
with fastings and prayers night and day," you 
would look upon her as very extravagant. 
Yet this would be no greater extravagance, 
than for her to say, that she had been "striving 
to enter in at the strait gate," or making any 
one doctrine of the gospel, a rule of her life. 

She may as well say, that she lived with our 
Saviour when he was upon earth, as that she 
has lived in imitation of him, or made it any 
part of her care to live in such tempers, as he 
required of all those that would be his disciples. 
She may as truly say, that she has every day 
washed the saint's feet, as that she has lived in 
Christian humility, and poverty of spirit; and 
as reasonably think, that she has taught a char- 
ity-school, as that she has lived in works of 
charity. She has as much reason to think, that 
she has been a sentinel in an army, as that she 
has lived in watching and self-denial. And it 
may as fairly be said, that she lived by the 
labor of her hands, as that she had " given all 
diligence to make her calling and election sure." 



84 SERIOUS CALL, 



The causes which formed this character. 

And here it is well to be observed, that the 
poor, vain turn of mind, the irreligion, the folly 
and vanity of this whole life of Flavia, is all 
owing to the manner of using her estate. It is 
this that has formed her spirit, that has given 
life to every idle temper, that has supported 
every trifling passion, and kept her from all 
thoughts of a prudent, useful, and devout life. 
When her parents died, she had no thought 
about her two hundred pounds a year, but that 
she had so much money to do what she would 
with, to spend upon herself, and purchase the 
pleasures and gratifications of all her passions. 

It was no wonder that she should turn her 
time, her mind, her health and strength to the 
same uses that she turned her fortune. It is 
owing to her being wrong in so great an article 
of life, that you can see nothing wise, or reason- 
able, or pious, in any other part of it. 

Though the irregular trifling spirit of this 
character belongs, I hope, but to few people, 
yet many may learn instruction from it, and 
perhaps see something of their own spirit in it. 
As Flavia seems to be undone by the unreason- 
able use of her fortune, so the lowness of most 
people's virtue, the imperfections of their piety, 
and the disorders of their passions, is generally 
owing to their imprudent use and enjoyment of 
lawful and innocent things. 

More people are kept from a true sense and 
state of religion by a regular kind of sensuality 



THE CHARACTER OF MIRANDA. 85 

The general hindrance to religion. 

and indulgence, than by gross drunkenness. 
More men live regardless of the great duties of 
piety, through too great a concern for worldly 
goods, than through direct injustice. 

As consideration is the only eye of the soul, 
as the truths of religion can be seen by nothing 
else, so whatever raises a levity of mind, a tri- 
fling spirit, renders the soul incapable of seeing, 
apprehending, and relishing the doctrines of 
piety. Would we therefore make a real pro- 
gress in religion, we must not only abhor gross 
and notorious sins, but we must regulate the 
lawful parts of our behavior, and put the most 
common and allowed actions of life under the 
rules of discretion and piety. 



CHAP VIII. 

THE WISE AND PIOUS USE OF AN ESTATE, NATURALLY 
CARRIETH US TO GREAT PERFECTION IN ALL THE 
VIRTUES OF THE CHRISTIAN LIFE; REPRESENTED IN 
THE CHARACTER OF MIRANDA. 

Any one pious regularity of any one part of 
our life, is of great advantage, not only on its 
own account, but as it uses us to live by rule, 
and think of the government of ourselves. 

A man of business, that has brought one part 
of his affairs under certain rules, is in a fair way 
to take the same care of the rest. 

8 



86 SERIOUS CALL. 



The advantage of exactness in any one thing. 

So he that has brought any one part of his life 
under the rules of religion, may thence be taught 
to extend the same order and regularity into 
all other parts of his life. 

If any one is so wise as to think his time too 
precious to be disposed of by chance, and left to 
be devoured by any thing that happens in his 
way; if he lays himself under a necessity of 
observing how every day goes through his hands, 
and obliges himself to a certain order of time in 
his business, his retirements, and devotions, it is 
hardly to be imagined, how soon such a conduct 
would reform, improve, and perfect the whole 
course of his life. 

He that once knows the value, and reaps the 
advantage of well-ordered time, will not long 
be a stranger to the value of any thing else that 
is of any real concern to him. 

A rule that relates even to the smallest part 
of our life, is of great benefit to us, merely as it 
is a rule. For, as the proverb saith, u he that 
has begun well, has half done:" so he that 
has begun to live by rule, has gone a great 
way towards the perfection of his life. 

By rule, must here be constantly understood, 
a religious rule, observed upon a principle of 
duty to God. For if a man should oblige 
himself to be moderate in his meals, only in 
regard to his stomach; or abstain from drink- 
ing, only to avoid the headache; or be mode- 
rate in his sleep, through fear of a lethargy. 



THE CHARACTER OP MIRANDA. 87 

Reproof of sin. Sunday deportment. 

he might be exact in these rules, without be- 
ing at all the better man for them. 

But when he is moderate and regular in any 
of these things, out of a sense of Christian so- 
briety, and self-denial, that he may offer unto 
God a more reasonable and holy life, then it is 
that the smallest rule of this kind, is naturally, 
the beginning of great piety. 

For the smallest rule in these matters is of 
great benefit, as it teaches us some part of the 
government of ourselves, as it keeps up a ten- 
derness of mind, as it presents God often to our 
thoughts, and brings a sense cf religion into the 
ordinary actions of our common life. 

If a man, whenever he was in company, where 
any one swore, talked lewdly, or spoke evil of 
his neighbor, should make it a rule to himself, 
either gently to reprove him, or if that was not 
proper, then to leave the company as decently 
as he could; he would find, that this little rule, 
like a little leaven hid in a great quantity of 
meal, would spread and extend itself through 
the whole form of his life. 

It would be easy to show in many other in- 
stances, how little and small matters are the 
first steps, and natural beginnings of great per- 
fection. 

But the two things, which of all others most 
need to be under a strict rule, and which are 
the greatest blessings both to ourselves and oth- 
ers, when they are rightly used, are our time 3 



88 SERIOUS CALL. 



Rules for time and money. The best use of life. 

and our money. These talents are continual 
means and opportunities of doing good. 

He that is piously strict, and exact in the wise 
management of either of these, cannot be long 
ignorant of the right use of the other. And he 
that is happy in the religious care and disposal 
of them both, is already ascended several steps 
upon the ladder of Christian perfection. 

Miranda, (the sister of Flavia) is a sober, 
reasonable Christian. As soon as she was mis- 
tress of her time and fortune, it was her first 
thought how she might best fulfil every thing 
that God required of her in the use of them, and 
how she might make the best and happiest use 
of this short life. She depends upon the truth 
of what our blessed Lord hath said, " that there 
is but one thing needful," and therefore makes 
her whole life but one continual labor after it. 
She has but one reason for doing or not doing, 
for liking or not liking any thing, and that is the 
will of God. She is not so weak as to pretend 
to add, what is called the fine lady, to the true 
Christian 3 Miranda thinks too well to be taken 
with the sound of such silly words. She has 
renounced the world, to follow Christ in the 
exercise of humility, charity, devotion, absti- 
nence, and heavenly affections ; and that is 
Miranda's good breeding. 

While she was under her mother, she was 
forced to be genteel, to live in ceremony, to sit 
up late at nights, to be in the folly of every 



THE CHARACTER OF MIRANDA. 



Early vanities. Silly diversions. 

fashion, and often visiting on Sundays; to go 
loaded with finery, to be in every polite con- 
versation, to hear profaneness at the play- 
house, and wanton songs and love intrigues at 
the opera, to dance at public places, that fops 
and rakes might admire the fineness of her 
shape, and the beauty of her motions. The 
remembrance of this way of life, is always a 
matter of sorrow to her now. 

Miranda does not divide her duty between 
God, her neighbor, and herself, but she consid- 
ers all as due to God, and so does every thing in 
his name, and for his sake. This makes her 
consider her fortune as the gift of God, that is 
to be used as every thing is, that belongs to 
God, for the wise and reasonable ends of a 
Christian and holy life. She thinks it the same 
folly to indulge herself in vain expenses, as to 
give to other people to spend in the same way* 
It is a folly and a crime in a poor man, says 
Miranda, to waste w T hat is given him, in foolish 
trifles, while he wants meat, drink, and clothes. 
And is it less folly 5 or a less crime in me to 
spend that money in silly diversions, which 
might be so much better spent in imitation of 
the divine goodness, in works of kindness and 
charity towards my fellow creatures, and fellow 
Christians ? If a poor man's own necessities are 
a reason w T hy he should not waste any of his 
money idly, surely the necessities of the poor, 
the excellency of charity, w T hich is received as 

8* 



§0 SERIOUS CALL. 



Wasting money. General frugality. 

done to Christ himself, is a much greater reason 
why no one should ever waste any of his money. 
For if he does so, he not only like the poor 
man, wastes that which he wants himself, but 
he wastes that which is wanted for the most 
noble use, and which Christ himself is ready 
to receive at his hands. And if we are angry 
at a poor man, and look upon him as a wretch, 
when he throws away that which should buy 
his own bread ; how must we appear in the 
sight of God,, if we make a wanton, idle use of 
that which would buy bread and clothes for the 
hungry and naked brethren, who are as near 
and dear to God as we are, and fellow heirs of 
the same state of future glory ? 

Excepting her victuals, she never spent ten 
pounds a year upon herself. If you was to see 
her, you would wonder who it was that was so 
surprisingly neat and clean. She has but one 
rule that she observes in her dress, to be always 
clean and in cheap things. Every thing about 
her resembles the purity of her soul, and she is 
always clean without, because she is always 
pure within. 

Every morning sees her early at her prayers; 
she rejoices in the beginning of every day, be- 
cause it begins all her pious rules of holy living, 
and brings the fresh pleasure of repeating them. 
She seems to be as a guardian angel to those 
that dwell about her, with her watchings and 
prayers blessing the place where she dwells, and 



THE CHARACTER OF MIRANDA. 91 

'• — — — i — ■ — i t . . ■ 

Idle work. Rule for eating. 

making intercession with God for those that are 
asleep. 

When you see her at work, you see the 
same wisdom governing all her other actions; 
she is either doing something that is necessary 
for herself or necessary for others. Her wise 
and pious mind, neither wants the amusement, 
nor can bear with the folly of idle and imper- 
tinent work. She can admit of no such folly as 
this is in the day, because she is to answer for all 
her actions at night. When there is no wisdom 
to be observed in the employment of her hands, 
when there is no useful or charitable work to be 
done, Miranda will work no more. At her 
table she lives strictly by this rule of holy 
Scripture, "Whether ye eat or drink, or what- 
soever ye do, do all to the glory of God," 

If Miranda was to run a race for her life, 
she would submit to a diet that was proper for 
it. But as the race which is set before her, 
is a race of holiness, purity, and heavenly 
affection, which she is to finish in a corrupt, 
disordered body of earthly passions, so her 
every day diet has only this one end, to make 
her body fitter for this spiritual race. She does 
not weigh her meat in a pair of scales, but she 
weighs it in a much better balance ; allowing 
herself so much as gives a proper strength to her 
body, and renders it able and willing to obey 
the soul. So that Miranda will never have 
her eyes swell with fatness, or pant under a 



92 SERIOUS CALL, 



Daily stud'-. Daily self-examination. 

heavy load of flesh, till she has changed her 
religion. 

The holy Scriptures, especially of the New 
Testament, are her daily study. These she 
reads with a watchful attention, constantly cast- 
ing an eye upon herself, and trying herself by 
every doctrine that is there. When she has the 
New Testament in her hand, she supposes her- 
self at the feet of our Savior and his apostles, 
and makes every thing that she learns of them, 
so many laws of her life. She receives their 
sacred words with as much attention, and rev- 
erence, as if she saw their persons, and knew 
that they were just come from heaven, on pur- 
pose to teach her the way that leads to it. 

She thinks, that the trying herself every day 
by the doctrines of Scripture, is the only possi- 
ble way to be ready for her trial at the last day. 
She is sometimes afraid that she lays out too 
much money in books, because she cannot for- 
bear buying all practical books of any note; 
especially such as enter into the heart of re- 
ligion, and describe the inward holiness of the 
Christian life. But of all human writings, the 
lives of pious persons, of eminent saints, are her 
greatest delight. In these she searches as for 
hidden treasure, hoping to find some secret of 
holy living, some uncommon degree of piety, 
which she may make her own. By this means 
Miranda has her head and heart stored with all 
the principles of wisdom and holiness; she is so 



THE CHARACTER OF MIRANDA. 93 

Relieving the poor. Common beggars. 

full of the one main business of life, that she 
finds it difficult to converse upon any other sub- 
ject; and if you are in her company, when she 
thinks proper to talk, you must be made wiser 
and better, whether you will or not. 

Miranda is a constant relief to poor people in 
their misfortunes and accidents. There are 
sometimes little misfortunes that happen to 
them, which of themselves they could never be 
able to overcome. The death of a cow, or a 
horse, or some little robbery, would keep them 
in distress all their lives. She does not suffer 
them to grieve under such accidents as these. 
She immediately repairs their loss, and makes 
use of it as a means of raising their minds 
towards God. 

Miranda considers, that Lazarus was a com- 
mon beggar, that he was the care of angels, and 
carried into Abraham's bosom. She considers 
that our blessed Savior, and his apostles, were 
kind to beggars; that they spoke comfortably to 
them, healed their diseases, and restored eyes 
and limbs to the lame and blind. That Peter 
said to the beggar that wanted an alms for him, 
" Silver and gold have I none, but such as I 
have give I thee; in the name of Jesus Christ of 
Nazareth, rise up and walk. 55 Miranda, there- 
fore, never treats beggars- with disregard and 
aversion, but she imitates the kindness of our 
Savior and his apostles; and though she cannot 
work miracles for their relief, yet she examines 



94 SERIOUS CALL. 



"Deserving poor." The Scripture rule. 

their case and relieves them with that power 
that she hath. 

It may be, says Miranda, that I may often give 
to those who do not deserve it, or who will make 
an ill use of my alms. But what then ? Is not 
this the very method of divine goodness? Does 
not God make " his sun to rise on the evil, and 
on the good?" Is not this the very goodness 
that is recommended to us in Scripture, that by 
imitating of it, we may be children of our Father 
who is in heaven, " who sendeth rain on the 
just, and on the unjust?" And shall I withhold 
a little money or food, from my fellow creature, 
for fear he should not be good enough to receive 
it of me? Do I beg of God to deal with me, not 
according to my merit, but according to his own 
great goodness; and shall I be so absurd, as to 
withhold my charity from a poor brother, be- 
cause he may perhaps not deserve it? Shall I 
use a measure towards him, which I pray God 
never to use towards me ? 

Beside, where have the Scriptures made merit 
the rule or measure of charity? On the contrary, 
they say, " If thy enemy hunger, feed him; if he 
thirst, give him drink."* 

* It will be observed that no notice is here taken of those 
more expansive charities which regard the souls of men, and 
bless the world with Bibles, Tracts, Sunday Schools, and Mis- 
sionaries. These glorious enterprises did not, in our Author's 
day, engage the attention of Christians. Had he lived in these 
times, the devout and enlightened principles he here inculcates, 
and which shone so conspicuously in his life, would have made 
him one of their foremost advocates. — Ed. 



THE CHARACTER OF MIRANDA. 95 

Summary of Miranda's life. 

This is the spirit, and this is the life of the 
devout Miranda; and if she lives ten years long- 
er, she will have spent sixty thousand pounds in 
charity, for that which she allows herself, may 
fairly be reckoned among her alms. 

When she dies, she must shine among apos- 
tles, and saints, and martyrs, she must stand 
among the first servants of God, and be glorious 
among those that have fought the good fight, 
and finished their course with joy. 



CHAP. IX. 



REFLECTIONS ON THE LIFE OF MIRANDA, ESPECIALLY 
ON PROPRIETY OF DRESS. 

Now this life of Miranda, which I heartily 
recommend to the imitation of her sex, however 
contrary it may seem to the way and fashion of 
the world, is yet suitable to the true spirit, and 
founded upon the plainest doctrines of Chris- 
tianity. 

To live as she does, is as truly suitable to 1 the 
gospel of Christ, as to be baptized or receive the 
Lord's supper. 

Her spirit is that which animated the saints 
of former ages; and it is because they lived as 
she does, that we now celebrate their memories, 
and praise God for their examples. 

There is nothing that is whimsical, trifling, or 



96 SERIOUS CALL. 

We must not be vain in any thing. 

unreasonable in her character; but every thing 
there described, is a right and proper instance 
of solid and real piety. 

It is as easy to show, that it is whimsical to go 
to church, or to offer one's prayers, as that it is 
whimsical to observe any of these rules of life. 
For all Miranda's rules of living unto God, of 
spending her time and fortune, of eating, work- 
ing, dressing and conversing, are as substantial 
parts of a reasonable and holy life, as devotion 
and prayer. 

There is nothing to be said for the wisdom of 
sobriety, the wisdom of devotion, the wisdom of 
charity, or the wisdom of humility, but what is 
as good an argument for the wise and reason- 
able use of apparel. 

Neither can any thing be said against the folly 
of luxury, extravagance, prodigality, ambition, 
idleness, or indulgence, but what must be said 
against the folly of dress. Religion is as deeply 
concerned in the one as in the other. If you 
may be vain in one thing, you may be vain in 
every thing; for one kind of vanity only differs 
from another, as one kind of intemperance 
differs from another. 

If you spend your fortune in the needless, vain 
finery of dress, you cannot condemn prodigality, 
or extravagance, or luxury, without condemning 
yourself. 

If you fancy that it is your only folly, and that 
therefore there can be no great matter in it; you 



PROPRIETY OF DRESS. 97 

One's only folly. The Virgin Mary. 

are like those that think they are only guilty of 
the folly of covetousness, or the folly of ambi- 
tion. Now though some people may live so 
plausible a life, as to appear chargeable with no 
other fault, than that of covetousness or ambi- 
tion; yet the case is not as it appears; for cove- 
tousness or ambition cannot subsist in a heart 
that is in other respects rightly devoted to God. 

In like manner, though some people may 
spend most that they have in needless, expensive 
ornaments of dress, and yet seem to be in every 
other respect truly pious, yet it is certainly false; 
for it is as impossible for a mind that is in a 
true state of religion, to be vain in the use of 
clothes, as to be vain in the use of alms, or devo- 
tions. Now to convince ycu of this from your 
own reflections, let us suppose that some emi- 
nent saint, as, for instance, that the Virgin 
Mary was sent into the world, to be again in a 
state of trial for a few years, and that you were 
going to her, to be edified by her great piety; 
would you expect to find her dressed out and 
adorned in fine and expensive clothes? No: you 
would know in your own mind, that it was as 
impossible, as to find her learning to dance. 
Do but add saint, or holy, to any person, either 
man or woman, and your own mind tells you 
immediately, that such a character cannot admit 
of the vanity of fine apparel. 

Now what is the reason, that when you think 
of a saint or eminent servant of God, you cannot. 

9 



98 SERIOUS CALL. 



Fine dress the effect of a disordered heart. 

admit of the vanity of apparel ? Is it not because 
it is inconsistent with such a right state of heart, 
such true and exalted piety? And is not this 
therefore a demonstration, that where such van- 
ity is admitted, there a right state of heart, true 
and exalted piety must needs be wanted? For 
as certainly as the holy Virgin Mary could not 
indulge herself, or conform to the vanity of the 
world in dress and figure; so certain is it, that 
none can indulge themselves in this vanity, but 
those who want her piety of heart; and conse- 
quently it must be owned, that all needless and 
expensive finery of dress, is the effect of a disor- 
dered heart, that is not governed by the true 
spirit of religion. 

Covetousness is not a crime, because there is 
any harm in gold or silver, but because it is a 
foolish and unreasonable state of mind. In like 
manner, expensive finery of dress, is not a crime, 
because there is any good or evil in clothes, but 
because expensive ornaments shows a foolish 
and unreasonable state of heart, that abuses 
clothing, and turns the necessities of life into so 
many instances of pride and folly. All the world 
agree in condemning fops. Is it because there 
is any thing sinful in their particular dress? No: 
but it is because it shows the state of a man's 
mind, and that it is impossible for so ridiculous 
an outside to have any thing wise or reasonable, 
or good within. To suppose a fop of great 
piety, is as much nonsense, as to suppose a 



PROPRIETY OF DRESS. 99 

Clothes indicate the state of a man's mind. 

coward of great courage. So that all the world 
agree that the use and manner of clothes is a mark 
of the state of a man's mind, and consequently, 
that it is a thing highly essential to religion. 

But it should .be well considered, that as it is 
not only the sot that is guilty of intemperance, 
but every one that transgresses the right mea- 
sure of eating and drinking; so it should be 
considered, that it is not only the fop that is 
guilty of the abuse of dress, but every one that 
departs from the reasonable and religious ends 
of clothing. Therefore every argument against 
sottishness, is as good an argument against all 
kinds of intemperance ; so every argument 
against the vanity of fops, is as good an argu- 
ment against all vanity and abuse of dress. For 
they are all of the same kind, and only differ, as 
one degree of intemperance may differ from 
another. She that only paints a little, may as 
justly accuse another, because she paints a great 
deal, as she that uses but a common finery of 
dress, accuses another that is excessive in her 
finery. 

As in the matter of temperance, there is no 
rule but the sobriety that is according to the doc- 
trines and spirit of our religion : so in the matter 
of apparel, there is no rule to be observed, but 
such a right use of clothes, as is strictly accord- 
ing to the doctrines and spirit of our religion. 
To pretend to make the way of the world our 
measure in these things, is as weak and absurd. 



100 SERIOUS CALL. 



Where can be the harm of clothes ? 



as to make the way of the world the measure of 
our sobriety, abstinence, or humility. It is a 
pretence that is exceedingly absurd in the mouths 
of Christians, who are to be so far from conform- 
ing to the fashions of this life, that to have over- 
come the world, is made an essential mark of 
Christianity. 

This therefore is the way that you are to 
judge of the crime of vain apparel: you are to 
consider it an offence against the proper use 
of clothes, as covetousness is an offence against 
the proper use of money. You are to consider 
it as an indulgence of proud and unreasonable 
tempers; as an offence against the humility 
and sobriety of the Christian spirit; as an 
offence against all those doctrines that require 
you to do all to the glory of God, and that 
require you to make a right use of your 
talents. You are to consider it as an offence 
against all those texts cf Scripture, that com- 
mand you to love your neighbor as yourself, 
to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, and do 
all works of charity that you are able. So that 
you must not deceive yourself with saying, 
where can be the harm of clothes? The cov- 
etous man might as well say, where can be the 
harm of gold or silver ? You must consider, that 
it is a great deal of harm to want that wise, and 
reasonable, and humble state of heart, which is 
according to the spirit of religion, and which no 
one can have in the manner that he ought to 



PROPRIETY OF DRESS. 101 

The right rule. Exceptions claimed. 

have it, who indulges himself either in the vani- 
ty of dress, or the desire of riches. 

There is therefore nothing right in the use of 
clothes, or in the use of any thing else, but the 
plainness and simplicity of the Gospel. Every 
other use of things (however polite and fash- 
ionable in the world) distracts and disorders the 
heart, and is inconsistent with that purity of 
heart, that wisdom of mind, and regularity of 
affection, which Christianity requires. If you 
would be a good Christian, there is but one way; 
you must live wholly to God, according to the 
wisdom that comes from God. You must act 
according to the right judgments of the nature 
and value of things. You must live in the exer- 
cise of heavenly affections, and use all the gifts 
of God to his praise and glory. 

Some persons perhaps, who admire the purity 
and perfection of this life of Miranda, may say, 
how can it be proposed as a common example ? 
How can we who are married, or we who are 
under the direction of our parents, imitate such 
a life? 

It is answered, just as you may imitate the 
life of our blessed Savior and his apostles. 
The circumstances of our Savior's life, and the 
state and condition of his apostles, was more 
different from yours, than that of Miranda's is, 
and yet their life, the purity and perfection of 
their behavior, is the common example that is 
proposed to all Christians. 

9* 



102 SERIOUS CALL. 



Acting for God. The married. 



Act under Gocl as they did; direct your 
common actions to that end which they did; 
glorify your proper state with such love of God, 
such charity to your neighbor, such humility 
and self-denial, as they did; and then, though 
you are only teaching your own children, and 
St. Paul is converting whole nations, yet you are 
following his steps, and acting after his example. 

Do not think, therefore, that you cannot or 
need not be like Miranda, because you are not 
in her state of life. For as the same spirit and 
temper would have made Miranda a saint, 
though she had been forced to labor for a 
maintenance, so if you will but aspire after her 
spirit and temper, every form and condition of 
life will furnish you with sufficient means of 
employing it. 

Miranda is what she is, because she does 
every thing in the name, and with regard to her 
duty to God; and when you do the same, you 
will be exactly like her, though you are never 
so different from her in the outward state of 
your life. 

You are married, you say; therefore you have 
not your time and fortune in your power as she 
has. But Miranda's perfection does not consist 
in this, that she spends so much time, or so 
much money in a certain manner, but in that she 
is careful to make the best use of all that time, 
and fortune, which God has put into her hands. 
Do you, therefore, make the best use of all that 



PROPRIETY OP DRESS. 10S 

Offending husbands. Perplexing plain truths. 

time and money which is in your disposal, and 
then you are like Miranda. If she has two 
hundred pounds a year, and you have only two 
mites, have you not the more reason to be 
exceeding exact in the wisest use of it? If she 
has a deal of time, and you have but a little, 
ought you not to be the more watchful and 
circumspect, lest that little should be lost? 

You say if you was to imitate the cleanly 
plainness and cheapness of her dress, you should 
offend your husbands. Be very sure that this is 
true, before you make it an excuse. 

Use your utmost endeavors to recommend 
yourselves to their affections by such solid vir- 
tues, as may correct the vanity of their minds, 
and teach them to love you for such qualities, 
as will make you amiable in the sight of God 
and his holy angels. 

As to this doctrine concerning the plainness 
and modesty of dress, it may perhaps be thought 
by some to be sufficiently confuted by asking, 
whether all persons are to be clothed in the 
same manner? 

These questions are generally put by those, 
who had rather perplex the plainest truths, than 
be obliged to follow them. Let it be supposed, 
that I had recommended an universal plainness 
of diet. Is it not a thing sufficiently reasonable 
to be universally recommended ? But would it 
thence follow, that the nobleman and the laborer 
were to live upon the same food? Suppose I 



104 • SERIOUS CALL, 

Uniformity not required. A question. 

had pressed an universal temperance ! Does 
not religion sufficiently justify such a doctrine? 
But would it therefore folio w, that all people 
were to drink the same liquors, and in the same 
quantity? 

In like manner, though plainness and sobriety 
of dress is recommended to all, yet it does by 
no means follow, that all are to be clothed in the 
same manner. 

Let every one but guard against the vanity of 
dress, let them but make their use of clothes a 
matter of conscience, let them but desire to 
make the best use of their money, and then 
every one has a rule that is sufficient to direct 
them in every state of life. 

Will you say, that you may use the finest, 
richest wines, when and as you please, that you 
may be as expensive in them as you have a 
mind, because different liquors are allowed? If 
not, how can it be said, that you may use clothes 
as you please, and wear the richest things you 
can get, because the bare difference of clothes is 
lawful ? 

To ask what is vanity in dress, is no more a 
puzzling question, than to ask, what is intem- 
perance. And though religion does not state 
the particular measure for all individuals, yet 
it gives such general rules as are a sufficient 
direction in every state of life. 

He that thinks it a needless nicety, to talk of 
the religious use of apparel, has as much reason 



PROPRIETY OF DRESS. 105 

Needless nicety. Rule for children. 

to think it a needless nicety, to talk of the 
religious use of food and drink. Luxury and 
indulgence in dress, is as great an abuse, as 
luxury and indulgence in eating and drinking. 
There is no avoiding either of them, but by 
making' religion the strict measure of our allow- 
ance in both cases. There is nothing in religion 
to excite a man to this pious exactness in one 
case, but what is as good a motive to the same 
exactness in the other. 

All that has been here said to married women, 
may serve for the same instruction to such as 
are still under the direction of their parents. 
Though the obedience which is due to parents 
does not oblige them to carry their virtues any 
higher than their parents require them; yet their 
obedience requires them to submit to their direc- 
tion in all things not contrary to the laws of God. 

If, therefore, your parents require you to live 
more in the fashion and conversation of the 
world, or to be more expensive in your dress 
and person, or to dispose of your time otherwise 
than suits with your desires after greater per- 
fection, you must submit, and bear it as your 
cross, till you are at liberty to follow the higher 
counsels of Christ, and have it in your power to 
choose the best ways of raising your virtue to 
its greatest height. 

Now although wlrlst you are in this state, 
you may be obliged to forego some means of 
improving your virtue, yet there are some 



106 SERIOUS CALL. 



Children to obey only in tilings lawful. 



others to be found in it, that are not to be had 
in a life of more liberty. 

For if in this state, where obedience is so 
great a virtue, you comply in all things lawful, 
out of a pious, tender sense of duty; then those 
things which you thus perform, are, instead of 
being hinderances of your virtue, turned into 
means of improving it. 

What you lose by being restrained from such 
things, as you would choose to observe, you 
gain by that excellent virtue of obedience, in 
humbly complying against your temper. Now 
what is here granted, is only in things lawful; 
and therefore the diversions of the stage is here 
excepted; being elsewhere proved, as I think, to 
be absolutely unlawful. 

Thus much to show, how persons under the 
direction of others, may imitate the wise and 
pious life of Miranda. 

But as for those who are altogether in their 
own hands, if the liberty of their states make 
them covet the best gifts, if it carries them to 
choose the most excellent ways, if they, having 
all in their own power, should turn the whole 
form of their life into a regular exercise of the 
highest virtues, happy are they who have so 
learned Christ! 



107 



CHAP. X. 

ALL ORDERS, RANKS, AND AGES, ARE OBLIGED TO 
DEVOTE THEMSELVES UNTO GOD. 

I have in the foregoing chapters gone through 
several instances of Christian devotion, and 
shown that all the parts of common life, are to 
be made holy and acceptable unto God, by a 
wise and religious use of every thing, and by 
directing our actions and designs to such ends as 
are suitable to the honor and glory of God. 

I shall now show, that this religious use of 
every thing we have, is the duty of all orders of 
Christian people. 

Fulvius has had a learned education, and 
taken his degrees in the university; he came 
from thence, that he might be free from any 
rules of life. He takes no employment upon 
him, nor enters into any business, because he 
thinks that every employment or business, calls 
people to the careful performance and discharge 
of its several duties. When he is grave, he will 
tell you that he did not enter into the ministry, 
because he looks upon it to be a state that re- 
quires great holiness of life, and that it does not 
suit his temper to be so good. He will tell you 
that he never intends to marry, because he can- 
not oblige himself to that regularity of life, and 
good behavior, which he takes to be the duty 
of those that are at the head of a family. He 



108 SEIUOUS CALL, 



Fulvius. His mode of life. 

refused to be godfather to his nephew, because 
he will have no trust of any kind to answer for. 

Fulvius thinks that he is conscientious in this 
conduct, and is therefore content with the most 
idle and careless life. 

He has do religion, no devotion, no pretences 
to piety. He lives by no rules, and thinks all is 
very well, because he is neither a priest nor a 
father, nor a guardian, nor has any employment 
or family to look after. 

But Fulvius is a rational creature, and as 
such, is as much obliged to live according to 
reason and order, as a priest is obliged to attend 
at the altar, or a guardian to be faithful to his 
trust. If he lives contrary to reason, he commits 
no small crime. He breaks not a small trust; 
but the law of nature. He rebels against God 
and puts himself among those whom the God 
of reason and order will punish as apostates 
and deserters. 

No man must think himself excused from the 
exactness of piety, because he has chosen to 
be idle and independent in the world; for the 
necessities of a reasonable and holy life, are not 
founded in the conditions and employments of 
this life, but in the immutable nature of God, 
and the nature of man. A man is not to be rea- 
sonable and holy, because he is a minister, or 
a father of a family; but he is to be a pious 
minister, and a good father, because piety and 
goodness are the laws of human nature. Could 



DUTY OF ALL ORDERS, RANKS, AND AGES. 109 
Unreasonable principles. Cases supposed. 

any man please God, without living according 
to reason and order, there would be nothing 
displeasing to God in an idle minister, or a rep- 
robate father. He therefore that abuses his 
reason, is like him that abuses the priesthood^ 
and he that neglects the holiness of the Christian 
life, is as the man that disregards the most 
important trust. 

If a man were to choose to put out his eyes 
rather than enjoy the light, and see the works of 
God; if he should voluntarily kill himself, by 
refusing to eat and drink, every one would own, 
that such a one was a rebel against God, that 
justly deserved his highest indignation. You 
would not say, that this was only sinful in a 
minister, or a master of a family, but in every 
man. 

Let us suppose, that this man, instead of put* 
ting out his eyes, had only employed them in 
looking at ridiculous things, or shut them up 
in a sleep; that instead of starving himself to 
death, he should turn every meal into a feast, 
and eat and drink like an epicure. Could he 
be said to have lived more to the glory of God? 
could he any more be said to act the part for 
which God had created him? 

Suppose a man acting unreasonably; suppose 
him extinguishing his reason, instead of putting 
out his eyes; and living in a course of folly and 
impertinence, instead of starving himself. Then 
you have found out as great a rebel against God. 

10 



110 SERIOUS CALL. 



Extinguishing reason. Exactness required of alf. 



For he that puts out his eyes, or murders him- 
self, has only this guilt, that he abuses the pow- 
ers that God has given him; refuses to act that 
part for which he was created* and puts himself 
into a state that is contrary to the divine will. 
And this is the guilt of every one that lives an 
unreasonable, unholy, and foolish life. As there- 
fore, no particular state, is an excuse for the 
abuse of our bodies 3 so no particular state, is an 
excuse for the abuse of our reason, or the neglect 
of the holiness of the Christian religion. It is as 
much the will of God, that we should make the 
best use of our rational faculties, as it is that we 
should use our eyes, and eat and drink for the 
preservation of our lives. 

Every body acknowledges, that all orders of 
men are to be equally and exactly honest and 
faithful. Now if we would but attend to the 
reason and nature of things; if we would but 
consider the nature of God, and the nature of 
man, we should find the same necessity for every 
other right use of our reason, for every grace, 
or religious temper of the Christian life. We 
should find it as absurd to suppose, that one man 
must be exact in piety, and another need not, 
as to suppose that one man must be exact in 
honesty, but another need not. For Christian 
humility, sobriety, devotion, and piety, are as 
necessary parts of a reasonable life, as justice 
and honesty. On the other hand, pride, sensu- 
ality, and covetousness, are as great disorders 



DUTY OF ALL ORDERS. RANKS, AND AGES. Ill 

Abusing our nature. Duty of prayer. 

of the soul, as high an abuse of our reason, and 
as contrary to God, as cheating and dishonesty. 

If you rather choose to be idle than unfaithful; 
if you prefer to live in sensuality, rather than to 
injure your neighbor, you have made no better 
a provision for the favor of God, than he that 
chooses rather to rob a house, than to rob a 
church. The abusing of our own nature, is as 
great a disobedience against God, as the injuring 
our neighbor; and he that wants piety towards 
God, has done as much to damn himself, as he 
that wants honesty towards men. Every argu- 
ment that proves it necessary for all men, in all 
stations, to be truly honest, proves it equally 
necessary for all men, in all stations, to be 
truly pious. 

Another argument to prove that all orders of 
men are obliged to be thus holy and devout in 
the common course of their lives, in the use of 
every thing that they enjoy, may be taken from 
our obligation to prayer. It is granted, that 
prayer is a duty that belongs to all states and 
conditions of men; now if we inquire into the 
reason of this, why no state of life is to be ex- 
cused from prayer, we shall find it as good a 
reason, why every state of life is to be made a 
state of piety and holiness in all its parts. The 
reason why we pray to God, and praise him 
with hymns, is because w r e are to glorify him in 
all possible ways. It is not because the praises 
of words, are more particularly parts of piety, or 



122 SERIOUS CALJL. 



Words and actions. The better sacrifice. 

more the worship of God than other things; but 
it is because they are possible ways of express- 
ing our dependence., our obedience and devotion 
to God. Now if this be the reason of verbal 
praises and thanksgivings to God, because we 
are to live unto God all possible ways, then it 
plainly follows, that we are equally obliged to 
worship, and glorify God in all other actions^ 
that can be turned into acts of piety and obedi- 
ence to him. And as actions are of much more 
significancy than words, it must be a much more 
acceptable worship of God, to glorify him in all 
the actions of our common life, than with any 
little form of words at any particular times. 

Thus, if God is ta be worshipped with 
thanksgivings he that makes it a rule to be 
content and thankful in every part and accident 
of his life, because it comes from God, praises 
him in a much higher manner, than he that has 
some set time for singing psalms. He that 
dares not say an ill-natured word, or do an 
unreasonable thing, because he considers God 
as every where present, performs a better devo- 
tion than he that dares not miss the church. 
To live in the world as a stranger and a pil- 
grims using all its enjoyments as if we used 
them not, making all our actions so many steps 
towards a better life, is offering a better sacrifice 
to God, than any forms of holy and heavenly 
prayers. 
To he humble in all our actions* ta avoid 



DUTY OF ALL ORDERS, RANK'S; AND AGES. 113 

General exactness better than occasional devotion. 

every appearance of pride and vanity, to be 
meek and lowly in our words, dress, and de- 
signs, in imitation of our blessed Savior, is 
worshipping God in a higher manner, than they 
who have only set times to fall on their knees 
in devotion. He that contents himself with 
necessaries, that he may give the more to those 
that want; that dares not to spend any money 
foolishly, because he considers it as a talent 
from God, which must be used according to his 
will, praises God with something that is more 
glorious than songs of praise. 

He that has appointed times for the use of 
wise and pious prayers, perforins a proper in- 
stance of devotion 5 but he that allows himself 
no times, nor any places, nor any actions, but 
such as are strictly conformable to wisdom and 
holiness, worships the divine nature with the 
most true and substantial devotion. For who 
does not know, that it is better to be pure and 
holy, than to talk about purity and holiness ? 

Prayers are so far from being a sufficient 
devotion, that they are the smallest part of it. 
We are to praise God with words and prayers, 
because it is a possible way of glorifying God, 
who has given us such faculties, as may be so 
used. But as words are small things in them- 
selves, and as times of prayer are but little, 
compared with the rest of our lives; so that 
devotion which consists in times and forms of 
prayer, is but a very small thing, if compared to 

10* 



114 SERIOUS CALL. 



Periodical prayer and a devotit life. 



that devotion which is to appear in every part 
and circumstance of our lives. 

Again;- as it is an easy thing to worship God 
with forms of words, and to observe times of 
offering them unto him, so it is the smallest kind 
of piety. On the other hand, as it is more diffi- 
cult to worship God with our substance, to honor 
him with the right use of our time, to offer to him 
the continual sacrifice of self-denial and mortifi- 
cation ; as it requires- more piety to eat and drink 
only for such ends as may glorify God, to under- 
take no labor, nor allow of any diversion, but 
where we can act in the name of God ; as it is 
most difficult to sacrifice all our corrupt tempers, 
correct all our passions, and make piety to God, 
the rule and measure of all the actions of all our 
common life, so the devotion of this kind is a 
much more acceptable service unto God, than 
those words of devotion which we offer to him 
either in the sanctuary or in our closet, 

Every sober reader will easily perceive, that I 
intend not to lessen the true and great value of 
prayers, either public or private; but to show, 
that they are a very slender part of devotion, 
when compared to a devout life. 

To see this in a yet clearer light, let us sup- 
pose a person to have appointed times for prais- 
ing God with psalms and hymns, and to be strict 
in the observation of them; let it be supposed 
also, that in his common life he is restless and 
uneasy, full of murmurings and complaints at 



DUTY OF ALL ORDERS, RANKS, AND AGES. 115 

_ Praise contradicted by complaints. 

every thing, never pleased but by chance, as his 
temper happens to carry him, but murmuring 
and repining at the very seasons, and having 
something to dislike in every thing that happens 
to him. Now can you conceive any thing more 
absurd and unreasonable, than such a character 
as this ? Is such a one to be reckoned thankful 
to God, because he has forms of praise which he 
offers to him? Nay, is it not certain, that such 
forms of praise must be so far from being an 
acceptable devotion to God, that they must be 
abhored as an abomination ? Now the absurd- 
ity which you see in this instance, is the same in 
any other part of our life; if our common life 
hath any contrariety to our prayers, it is the 
same abomination, as songs of thanksgiving in 
the mouths of murmurers. Bended knees, whilst 
you are clothed with pride; heavenly petitions, 
whilst you are hoarding up treasures upon earth; 
holy devotions, while you live in the follies of 
the world; prayers of meekness and charity, 
whilst your heart is the seat of spite and resent- 
ment; hours of prayer, whilst you give up days 
and years to idle diversions, impertinent visits, 
and foolish pleasures; are as absurd, unaccepta- 
ble service to God, as forms of thanksgiving 
from a person that lives in repinings and dis- 
content. 

Unless the common course of our lives be 
according to the common spirit of our prayers, 
our prayers are so far from being a real or sufii- 



116 SERIOUS CALL. 



Our life must conform to the spirit of our prayers. 

cient degree of devotion, that they become empty 
lip-labor, or what is worse, notorious hypocrisy. 

As certain therefore as the same holiness of 
prayers requires the same holiness of life, so 
certain is it, that all Christians are called to the 
same holiness of life. A soldier or a tradesman, 
is not called to preach the gospel; but every 
soldier or tradesman is as much obliged to be 
devout, humble, holy, and heavenly-minded in 
all the parts of his common life, as a clergyman 
is obliged to be faithful, and laborious in his 
profession. 

All men, therefore, as men, have one and the 
same important business ; to act up to the ex- 
cellency of their rational nature, and to make 
reason and order the law of all their designs and 
actions. All Christians, as Christians, have one 
and the same calling, to live according to the 
Christian spirit, and to make the sublime pre- 
cepts of the gospel, the rule and measure of all 
their tempers in common life. The one thing 
needful to one, is the one thing needful to all. 

The merchant is no longer to hoard up treas- 
ures upon earth; the soldier is no longer to fight 
for glory; the scholar is no longer to pride him- 
self in the depths of science; but they must 
all with one spirit "count all things but loss, 
for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ 
Jesus." The fine lady must be clothed with 
humility. The polite gentleman must exchange 
gay thoughts for a contrite heart. The man of 



DUTY OF ALL ORDERS, RANKS, AND AGES. 117 

All persons lie under similar obligations. 

quality must think himself miserable till he is 
born again. Servants must consider their ser- 
vice as done unto God. Masters must consider 
their servants as brethren in Christ, who are to 
be treated as fellow members of the mystical 
body of Christ. Young ladies must either de- 
vote themselves to piety, prayer, self-denial, 
and good works, in a virgin state 3 or else marry 
to be holy, sober, and prudent in the care of a 
family, bringing up their children in piety, hu- 
mility and devotion, and abounding in all good 
works, to the utmost of their state and capacity. 
They may choose a married or a single life; but 
it is not left to their choice, whether they will 
make either state a state of holiness, humili- 
ty, and devotion. It is no more left in their 
power, because they have fortunes, or are born 
of rich parents, to divide themselves between 
God and the world, or to take such pleasures 
as their fortunes would afford them, than it is 
allowable for them to be sometimes chaste and 
sometimes not. 

They are not to consider how much religion 
may secure them a fair character, or how they 
may add devotion to a vain, and giddy life; but 
must look into the nature and end of Chris- 
tianity, and then they will find, that whether 
married or unmarried, they have but one busi- 
ness upon their hands, viz. to be wise and pious, 
not in little modes and forms of worship ; 
but in the whole turn of their minds, in the 



118 SERIOUS CALL. 



Young men. The mission of Christ. 

whole form of all their behavior, and in the 
daily course of their common life. 

Young gentlemen must consider what our 
blessed Savior said to the young gentleman in 
the gospel; he bid " him sell all that he had, and 
give it to the poor. 53 Now though this text 
should not oblige all people to sell all, yet it cer- 
tainly obliges all kinds of people to employ all 
their estates in such wise, and reasonable, and 
charitable ways, as may sufficiently show that 
all that they have is devoted to God, and that no 
part of it is kept from such uses to be spent in 
needless, vain, and foolish expenses. 

If, therefore, young gentlemen propose to 
themselves a life of pleasure and indulgence, if 
they spend their estates in a high living, in lux- 
ury and intemperance, in state and equipage, 
in pleasures and diversions, in sports and gam- 
ing, and such gratifications of their foolish 
passions, they have as much reason to look 
upon themselves to be angels, as to be disci- 
ples of Christ. 

The Son of God did not come to add an 
external form of worship to the several ways of 
life that are in the world; and leave people to 
live as they did before, in such tempers and 
enjoyments as the world approves. But as he 
came down from heaven, altogether divine and 
heavenly in his own nature, so it was to call 
mankind to a divine and Heavenly life ; — to 
the highest change of their whole nature and 



DUTY OF ALL ORDERS, RANKS, AND AGES. 119 
A minister's standard. Equal obligations on all. 

temper; to be born again of the Holy Spirit; to 
walk in the wisdom and light and love of God; 
and be like him to the utmost of their power; to 
renounce all the most plausible ways of the 
world, whether of greatness, business, or pleas- 
ure; to mortify all their most agreeable passions; 
and to live in such wisdom, purity, and holiness, 
as might fit them to be glorious in the enjoyment 
of God to all eternity. 

If you say, that a minister must be an eminent 
example of Christian holiness, because of his 
high and sacred calling, you say right. But if 
you say that it is more to his advantage to be 
exemplary, than it is yours, you greatly mistake. 
For there is nothing to make the highest degrees 
of holiness desirable to him, but what makes 
them equally desirable to every person of every 
family. For an exalted piety, high devotion, 
and the religious uses of every thing, is as much 
the glory and happiness of one state of life, as 
it is of another. 

Do but fancy in your mind what a spirit of 
piety you would have in the best minister in the 
world, how you would have him love God, how 
you would have him imitate the life of our Sa- 
vior and his apostles, how you would have him 
live above the world, shining in all the instances 
of a heavenly life, and then you have found out 
that spirit, which you ought to make the spirit 
of your own life. 

I desire every reader to dwell awhile upon 



120 SERIODS CALL. 



A great error, and a common one. 



this reflection, and perhaps he will find more 
conviction from it, than he imagines. For every- 
thing that is great and glorious in religion, is as 
much the true glory of every man or woman, as 
it is the glory of any bishop. If high degrees of 
divine love, if fervent charity, if spotless purity, 
if heavenly affection, if constant mortification, 
if frequent devotion be the best and happiest 
way of life for any Christian; it is so for every 
Christian. 

Consider again; if you were to see a minister 
in the whole course of his life, living below his 
character, conforming to all the foolish tempers 
of the world, and governed by the same cares 
and fears which govern vain and worldly men 3 
what would you think of him ? Would you 
think that he was only guilty of a small mistake ? 
No : you would condemn him, as erring in that 
which is not only the most, but the only impor- 
tant matter that relates to him. 

While you are thinking in this manner, turn 
your thoughts toward some of your acquaint- 
ance, your brother or sister, or any young per- 
son. Now if you see the common course of 
their lives to be not according to the doctrines 
of the gospel, — if you see that their way of life 
cannot be said to be a sincere endeavor to enter 
in at the strait gate, you see something that you 
are to condemn in the same degree, and for the 
same reasons. They do not commit a small 
mistake, but are wrong in that which is their all, 



PEACE AND HAPPINESS OF DEVOTION. 121 

An application. Religion a restraint. 

and mistake their true happiness, as much as 
that minister does, who neglects the high duties 
of his calling. Apply this reasoning to yourself. 
If you mid yourself living an idle, indulgent, 
life, you have all that blindness and unreason- 
ableness to charge upon yourself, that you can 
charge upon any irregular minister. 



CHAP. XI. 

GREAT DEVOTION FILLS OUR LIVES WITH THE GREAT- 
EST PEACE AND HAPPINESS THAT CAN BE ENJOYED 
IN THIS WORLD. 

Some will object, that these rules of living to 
God in all that we do, are too great a restraint 
upon human life ; — that it will be made too 
anxious a state, by introducing a regard to 
God in all our actions, — and that by depriv- 
ing ourselves of so many seemingly innocent 
pleasures, we will render our lives dull, un- 
easy, and melancholy. To which it may be 
answered : 

1. These rules are prescribed for, and will 
certainly procure a quite contrary end. Instead 
of making our lives dull and melancholy, they 
will render them full of content and strong satis- 
factions. By these rules we only change the 
childish satisfactions of our vain and sickly pas- 

11 



122 serious cal; 



The true enjoyment. A case supposed. 

sions, for the solid enjoyments, and real happi- 
ness of a sound mind. 

2. As there is no foundation for comfort in 
the enjoyments of this life, but in the assurance 
that a wise and good God governs the world, 
so the more we find out God in every thing, 
apply to him in every place, and lock up to him 
in all our actions} the more we conform to his 
will, act according to his wisdom, and imitate 
his goodness; the more do we enjoy God, par- 
take of the divine nature, and increase all that is 
happy and comfortable in human life. 

3. He that is endeavoring to root out of his 
mind all pride, envy and ambition, is doing 
more to make himself happy, even in this life, 
than he that is contriving the means to indulge 
them. For these passions are the causes of all 
the disquiets and vexations of human life. They 
are the dropsies and fevers of our mind, vexing 
them with false appetites, and restless cravings 
after such things as we do not want, and spoiling 
our taste for those things which are our proper 
good. 

Imagine that you somewhere saw a man who 
proposed reason as the rule of all his actions, 
that had no desires but after such things as 
nature wants, and religion approves, that was as 
pure from all the motions of pride, envy, and 
covetousness, as from thoughts of murder; that 
in this freedom from worldly passions, he had a 
soul full of divine love, wishing and praying 



PEACE AND HAPPINESS OF DEVOTION. 123 

Human trouble owing to violent passions. 

that all men may have what they want of worldly 
things, and be partakers of eternal glory in the 
life to come. Your own conscience will tell 
you, that he is the happiest man in the world, 
and that it is not in the power of the richest 
fancy to invent any higher happiness in the 
present state of life. 

And on the other hand, suppose him to be in 
any degree less perfect. Suppose him but sub- 
ject to one foolish fondness, or vain passion, 
your conscience will again tell you, that he so 
far lessens his own happiness, and robs himself 
of the true enjoyment of his other virtues. So 
true is it, that the more we live by the rules of 
religion, the more peaceful and happy do we 
render our lives. 

If we look into the world, and view the dis- 
quiets and troubles of human life, we shall find 
that they are all owing to our violent passions. 
All trouble and uneasiness is founded in the 
want of something; would we therefore know 
the true cause of our disquiets, we must find out 
the cause of our wants. That which creates 
and increases our wants, does in the same 
degree create and increase our troubles and 
disquiets. 

God has sent us into the world with very few 
wants; and the present world is well furnished 
to supply them. This is the state of man, 
born with few wants, and into a large world, 
very capable of supplying them. One would 



124 SERIOUS CALL, 



Life a short passage. Imaginary wants. 

reasonably suppose, that men should pass their 
lives in content and thankfulness, at least that 
they should be free from violent disquiets, as 
being placed in a world, that has more than 
enough to relieve all their wants. 

If to all this we add, that this life, thus 
furnished with all that we want in it, is only a 
short passage to eternal glory, where we shall 
be clothed with the brightness of angels, and 
enter into the joys of God, we might still more 
reasonably expect, that human life should be a 
state of peace, and joy, and delight in God. 

But alas ! though God, and nature, and reason, 
make human life thus free from wants, and so 
full of happiness, yet our passions, in rebellion 
against God, nature and reason, create a new 
world of evils, and fill human life with imagin- 
ary wants, and vain disquiets. 

The man of pride has a thousand wants, 
which only his pride has created; and these 
render him as full of trouble, as if God had 
created him with a thousand appetites, without 
creating what was proper to satisfy them. Envy 
and ambition have also their endless wants, 
which disquiet the souls of men, and by their 
contradictory motions, render them as foolishly 
miserable, as those that want to fly and creep 
at the same time. 

Let any complaining, disquieted man tell you 
the ground of his uneasiness, and you will 
plainly see, that he is the author of his own 



PEACE AND HAPPINESS OF DEVOTION. 125 

The ambitious man. 

torment. He is vexing himself at some imagi- 
nary evil, which will cease to torment him, as 
soon as he is content to be that which God, and 
nature, and reason require him to be. 

If you should see a man passing his days in 
disquiet, because he could not walk upon the 
water, or catch birds as they fly by him, you 
would readily confess, that such an one might 
thank himself for such uneasiness. But if you 
look into the most tormenting disquiets of life, 
you will find them all thus absurd. What can 
you conceive more silly, than to suppose a man 
racking his brains, and studying how to fly? 
wandering from his own house and home, 
wearying himself with climbing upon every 
ascent, courting every body he meets, to lift him 
up from the ground, bruising himself with con- 
tinual falls, and at last breaking his neck? And 
all this, from an imagination that it would be 
glorious to have the eyes of people gazing up at 
him, and mighty happy to eat, and drink, and 
sleep, at the top of the highest trees in the 
kingdom. Would you not readily own, that 
such an one was only disquieted by his own 
folly? 

If you ask, what it signifies to suppose such 
silly creatures as these, who are nowhere to be 
found in human life. It may be answered, that 
w T herever you see an ambitious man, there you 
see this vain and senseless flyer. 

Again, if you should see a man that had a 
11* 



126 SERIOUS CALL. 



The covetous man. 



large pond of water, yet living in continual 
thirst, not suffering himself to drink half a 
draught, for fear of lessening his pond. If you 
should see him wasting his time and strength, in 
fetching more water to his pond, always thirsty, 
yet always carrying a bucket of water in his 
hand, watching early and late to catch the drops 
of rain, gaping after every cloud, and running 
greedily into every mire and mud, in hopes of 
water, and always studying how to make every 
ditch empty itself into his pond. If you should 
see him grow gray in these anxious labors, and 
at last end a careful, thirsty life, by falling into 
his own pond, would you not say that such an 
one was not only the author of all his own dis- 
quiets, but was foolish enough to be reckoned 
among madmen ? But foolish and absurd as this 
character is, it does not represent half the follies, 
and absurd disquiets, of the covetous man. 

I could easily proceed to show the same 
effects of all our other passions; and make it 
plainly appear, that all our miseries are entirely 
of our own making, and that in the same absurd 
manner, as in these instances. 

Ccelia is always telling you how provoked she 
is, what intolerably shocking things happen to 
her, what monstrous usage she suffers, and what 
vexations she meets with. She tells you that 
her patience is quite worn out, and there is no 
bearing the behavior of people. Every assembly 
that she is at, sends her home provoked; some- 



PEACE AND HAPPINESS OF DEVOTION. .127 

The life and character of Orelia. 

thing or other has been said or done, that no 
reasonable, well-bred person ought to bear. 
Poor people that want her charity, are sent 
away with hasty answers, not because she has 
not a heart to part with money, but because she 
is too full of some trouble of her own, to attend 
to the complaints of others. Ceelia has no busi- 
ness upon her hands, but to receive the income 
of a plentiful fortune; but }^et by the doleful 
turn of her mind, you would think, that she had 
neither food nor lodging. If you see her look 
more pale than ordinary, if her lips tremble 
when she speaks to you, it is because she is just 
come from a visit, where Lupus took no notice 
of her, but talked ail the time to Lucinda, who 
has not half her fortune. When cross acci- 
dents have so disordered her spirits, that she is 
forced to send for the doctor to make her able 
to eat, she tells him, that she never was well 
since she was born, and that she envies every 
begsrar that she sees in health. 

Tiiis is the disquiet life of Caelia, who has 
nothing to torment her but her own spirit. 

If you would inspire her with christian 
humility, you need do no more to make her 
happy. This virtue would make her thankful 
to God for half so much health as she has had, 
and help her to enjoy more for the time to come. 
This virtue would keep off tremblings of the 
spirits, and loss of appetite, and her blood would 
need nothing else to sweeten it. 



128 SERIOUS CALL. 



The true cause of vexations. Moderate religion. 

I have touched upon these absurd characters 
for no other end, but to convince you in the 
plainest manner, that the strictest rules of 
religion are so far from rendering life dull, 
anxious, and uncomfortable, that on the con- 
trary, all the miseries, vexations, and complaints 
that are in the world, are owing to the want of 
religion; being directly caused by those absurd 
passions, which religion teaches us to deny. 

So far, therefore, as you reduce your desires 
to such things as nature and reason require; 
and regulate all the motions of your heart by the 
strict rules of religion, so far you remove your- 
self from that infinity of wants and vexations, 
which torment every heart that is left to itself. 

Most people confess, that religion preserves 
us from a great many evils, and helps us in 
many respects to a more happy enjoyment of 
ourselves; but then they imagine, that this is 
only true of such a moderate share of religion, 
as only gently restrains us from the excesses 
of our passions. They suppose that the strict 
rules and restraints of exalted piety, are such 
contradictions to our nature, as must make our 
lives dull and uncomfortable. 

This objection supposes, that religion, mod- 
erately practised, adds much to the happiness of 
life; but that such height of piety as the perfec- 
tion of religion requires, has a contrary effect. 
It supposes, therefore, that it is happy to be 
kept from the excesses of envy, but unhappy to 



PEACE AND HAPFINESS OF DEVOTION. 129 



Our vices to be abolished, not mitigated. 

be kept from other degrees of envy; that it is 
happy to be delivered from a boundless ambition, 
but unhappy to be without a more moderate 
ambition. It supposes also, that the happiness 
of life consists in a mixture of ambition, and 
humility, charity and envy, heavenly affection 
and covetousness. All which is as absurd as to 
suppose that it is happy to be free from excessive 
pains, but unhappy to be without moderate 
pains; or that the happiness of health consisted 
in being partly sick, and partly well. 

If humility be the peace and rest of the soul, 
then no one has so much happiness from humil- 
ity, as he that is the most humble. If excessive 
envy is a torment of the soul, he most perfectly 
delivers himself from torment that most perfectly 
extinguishes envy. If there is any peace and 
joy in doing any action according to the will of 
God, he that brings the most of his actions to 
this rule, does most of all increase the peace and 
joy of his life. 

And thus it is in every virtue; if you act up 
to every degree of it, the more happiness you 
have from it. And so of every vice; if you only 
abate its excesses, you do but little for yourself; 
but if you reject it in all degrees, then you feel 
the true ease and joy of a reformed mind. For 
example; if religion only restrains the excesses 
of revenge, but lets the spirit still live within 
you in lesser instances, your religion may have 
made your life a little more outwardly decent^ 



130 SERIOUS CALL. 



Piety allows all reasonable enjoyments. 

but not have made you at all happier or easier 
in yourself. But if you have once sacrificed all 
thoughts of revenge, in obedience to God, and 
are resolved to return good for evil at all times, 
that you may render yourself more like to God, 
and fitter for his mercy in the kingdom of love 
and glory; this is a height of virtue that will 
make you feel its happiness. 

Piety requires us to renounce no ways of 
life, where we can act reasonably, and offer 
what we do to the glory of God. All ways of 
life, all satisfactions and enjoyments within 
these bounds, are allowed. Whatever you can 
do, or enjoy, as in the presence of God, as his 
rational creature; all that you can perform con- 
formably to a rational, nature, and the will of 
God, is allowed by the laws of piety. And will 
you think that your life will be uncomfortable, 
unless you may displease God, be a fool and 
mad, and act contrary to that reason and 
wisdom which he has implanted in you? 

And as for those satisfactions, which are in- 
vented by the folly and corruption of the world, 
which inflame our passions, sink our souls into 
sensuality, and render us incapable of the divine 
favor either here or hereafter; surely it can be 
no uncomfortable state of life, to be rescued by 
religion from such self-murder, and to be ren- 
dered capable of eternal happiness. 

Let us suppose a person destitute of that 
knowledge which we have from our senses, 



PEACE AND HAPPINESS OF DEVOTION. 131 



The misery of using thing3 erroneously. 

placed somewhere by himself, in the midst of 
things which he did not know how T to use; that 
he has by him bread, wine, water, golden dust, 
iron chains, gravel, garments, fire, &c. Let it 
be supposed, that he has no knowledge of the 
right use of these things, nor any direction from 
his senses how to quench his thirst, or satisfy his 
hunger, or make any use of the things about 
him. Let it be supposed, that in his thirst he 
puts gold dust into his eyes; when his eyes 
smart, he puts wine into his ears ; that in his 
hunger, he puts gravel in his mouth; that in 
pain, he loads himself with the iron chains; that 
feeling cold, he puts his feet in the water; that 
being frighted at the fire, he runs away from it; 
that being weary, he makes a seat of his bread. 
Through his ignorance of the right use of the 
things that are about him, he w^ili plainly tor- 
ment himself while he lives; and would at last 
die, blinded w T ith dust, choked with gravel, and 
loaded with irons. Let it be supposed that some 
good being came to him, and showed him the 
nature and use of all the things that were about 
him, and gave him such rules of using them, as 
would certainly, if observed, make him the hap- 
pier for all that he had, and deliver him from the 
pains of hunger, and thirst, and cold. Now T could 
you with any reason affirm, that those rules of 
using the things that were about him, has render- 
ed that poor man's life dull and uncomfortable? 
This is in some measure a representation of 



132 SERIOUS CALL. 



Man's condition. The instructions of religion. 

the rules of religion. They only relieve our 
ignorance, save us from tormenting ourselves, 
and teach us to use every thing to our proper 
advantage. 

Man is placed in a world full of variety; his 
ignorance makes him use many things as absurd- 
ly, as the man that put dust in his eyes to relieve 
his thirst, or put on chains to remove pain. 
Religion therefore here comes to his relief, and 
gives him strict rules of using every thing so 
that he may have always the pleasure of receiv- 
ing a right benefit from them. It shows him 
what is strictly right in meat, drink and clothes; 
and that he has nothing to expect from this 
world, but to satisfy his own wants; and then to 
extend his assistance to all his brethren, as far 
as he is able. It tells him, that this world is 
incapable of giving him any other happiness; 
and that all endeavors to be happy in heaps of 
money, or acres of land, in fine clothes, rich 
beds, stately equipage, or show and splendor, 
are only vain endeavors, ignorant attempts after 
impossibilities; these things being no more able 
to give the least degree of happiness, than dust 
in the eyes can cure thirst, or gravel in the 
mouth satisfy hunger; but, like dust and gravel 
misapplied, will only serve to render him more 
unhappy by such an ignorant misuse of them. 
It tells him, that there is a much greater good 
prepared for man, than eating, drinking, and 
dressing ; reserved for him to enter upon, as 



PEACE AND HAPPINESS OF DEVOTION. 133 
Its promises Its prohibitions. 

soon as this short life is over; where he shall 
dwell in the light and glory of God to all eter- 
nity. It tells him that this glory will be given to 
all those who make a right use of the things of 
this present world; who do not blind themselves 
with gold dust, or eat gravel, or groan under 
loads of iron of their own putting on; but use 
bread, water, wine, and garments, for such ends 
as are according to nature and reason; and who 
with faith and thankfulness worship the kind 
Giver of all that they enjoy here, and hope for 
hereafter. 

Now can any one say, that the strictest rules 
of such a religion as this, debar us any of the 
comforts of life? Who could complain of the 
severe strictness of a law, that without any 
exception forbade the putting of dust into our 
eyes? Who could think it too rigid, that there 
were no abatements? Nov/ this is the strictness 
of religion; it requires nothing of us strictly, or 
without abatements, but where every degree of 
the thing is wrong, where every indulgence does 
us some hurt. 

If religion forbids all revenge without excep- 
tion, it is because all revenge is of the nature of 
poison. If religion commands universal charity, 
without any reserve; it is because all degrees of 
love are degrees of happiness. If religion has 
laws against laying up for ourselves treasures 
upon earth, and commands us to be content with 
food and raiment; it is because every other use 

12 



134 SERIOUS CALL, 



Religion not severe, but produces comfort. 

of the world is abusing it to our own vexation, 
and turning all its conveniences into snares and 
traps to destroy us. It is because this plainness 
and simplicity of life, secures us from the cares 
and pains of restless pride and envy, and makes 
it easier to keep that strait road that will carry 
us to eternal life. It is so far therefore from 
being a hard law of religion, to make this use of 
our riches, that a reasonable man would rejoice 
in that religion which teaches him to be happier 
in that which he gives away, than in that which 
he keeps for himself; which teaches him to 
make his spare food and raiment greater bless- 
ings, than that which feeds and clothes his own 
body. If religion requires us sometimes to 
deny our natural appetites, it is to lessen that 
struggle that is in our nature; to render our 
bodies fitter instruments of purity, and more 
obedient to the motions of divine grace; to dry 
up the springs of our passions that war against 
the soul, to cool the flame of our blood, and 
render the mind more capable of divine medi- 
tations. So that though these abstinences give 
some pain to the body, yet they so lessen the 
power of bodily appetites and passions, and so 
increase our taste of spiritual joys, that when 
practised with discretion, they add much to the 
comfortable enjoyment of our lives. 

If religion calls us to a life of watching and 
prayer, it is because we live among a crowd of 
enemies, and are always in need of the assist- 



PEACE AND HAPPINESS OF DEVOTION. 135 

Advantages of prayer. Bodily enjoyments. 

ance of God. If we are to confess and bewail 
our sins, it is because such confessions relieve 
the mind, and restore it to ease; as burdens and 
weights taken off the shoulders, relieve the body. 
If we are to be frequent and fervent in holy 
petitions, it is to keep us steady in the sight of 
our true good, and that we may never want the 
happiness of a lively faith, a joyful hope, and 
well-grounded trust in God. If we are to pray 
often, it is that we may be often happy in such 
secret joys as only prayer can give; in such 
communications of the divine presence, as will 
fill our minds with all the happiness that beings 
not in heaven are capable of. 

Was there any thing in the world more worthy 
our care; was there any exercise of the mind, or 
any conversation with men, that turned more to 
our advantage than this intercouse w T ith God, 
we should not be called to such a continuance in 
prayer. If we consider, that all that is in the 
world, is only for the body, and bodily enjoy- 
ments, we will have reason to rejoice at those 
hours of prayer, which carry us to higher 
consolations, which raise us above these poor 
concerns, which open to the mind a scene of 
greater things, and accustom the soul to the 
hope and expectation of them. Religion com- 
mands us to live wholly to God, and to do all 
to his glory, because every other way is living 
wholly against ourselves, and will end in our 
own shame and confusion of face^ « 



1S6 SERIOUS CALL. 



Enjoyments of angels. Man helpless. 

As creatures, whether men or. angels, make 
not themselves, so they enjoy nothing from 
themselves. If they are great, it must be only 
as great receivers of the gifts of God. Their 
power can only be so much of the divine power 
acting in them. Their wisdom can be only so 
much of the divine wisdom shining within them; 
and their light and glory, only so much of the 
light and glory of God shining upon them. As 
they are not men or angels, because they had a 
mind to be so, but because the will of God form- 
ed them what they are; so they cannot enjoy the 
happiness of men or angels, because they have a 
mind to it, but because it is the will of God, that 
such things be the happiness of men, and such 
things the happiness of angels. But now if God 
be thus all in all; if his will is thus the measure 
of all things, and all natures; if nothing can be 
done, but by his power; if nothing can be seen, 
but by a light from him; if we have nothing to 
fear, but from his justice; if we have nothing to 
hope for, but from his goodness; if this is the 
nature of man, thus helpless in himself; if this 
is the state of all creatures, as well those in 
heaven, as those on earth; if they are nothing, 
can do nothing, can suffer no pain, nor feel any 
happiness, but so far, and in such degrees, as 
the power of God does all this: if this be the 
state of things, then how can we have the least 
glimpse of joy and comfort, how can we have 
any peaceful enjoyment of ourselves, but by 



PEACE AND HAPPINESS OF DEVOTION. 137 

Our own will. The Lord's w ill. 

living wholly unto that God, using and doing 
every thing conformably to his will ? A life thus 
devoted unto God, looking wholly unto him in 
all our actions, and doing all things suitably to 
his glory, is so far from being dull, and uncom- 
fortable, that it creates new comforts in every 
thing that we do. 

On the contrary, would you see how happy 
they are who live according to their own wills, 
who cannot submit to the dull and melancholy 
business of a life devoted unto God? look at the 
man in the parable, to whom his lord had given 
one talent. He could not bear the thoughts of 
using his talent according to the will of him 
from whom he had it, and therefore he chose to 
make himself happier in a way of his own. 
" Lord," says he, " I knew thee, that thou art 
an hard man, reaping where thou hast not sown, 
and gathering where thou hast not strawed. 
And I was afraid, and went and hid thy talent 
in the earth. Lo there thou hast that is thine." 
Matt. xxv. 24. His lord having convicted him 
out of his own mouth, despatches him with this 
sentence: "Cast the unprofitable servant into 
outer darkness ; there shall be weeping and 
gnashing of teeth." Matt. xxv. 30. 

Here you see how unhappy this man made 
himself by not acting according to the Lord's 
will. It was, according to his own account, a 
happiness of murmuring and discontent; I knew 
thee, says he, "that thou wast a hard man:" it 

12* 



138 SERIOUS CALL. 



Worldly happiness. Self conviction. 

was a happiness of fears and apprehensions; "I 
was afraid," says he; it was a happiness of vain 
labors and fruitless travails: "I went," says he, 
cc and hid thy talent;" and after having been a 
while the sport of foolish passions, tormenting 
fears, and fruitless labors, he is rewarded at 
last with darkness, eternal weeping, and gnash- 
ing of teeth. 

Now this is the happiness of all those, who 
look upon a strict and exalted piety, that is, a 
right use of their talent, to be a dull and melan- 
choly state of life. They may live awhile free 
from the restraints and directions of religion, but 
instead of these, they must be under the absurd 
government of their passions: they must, like 
the man in the parable, live in murmurings and 
discontents, in fears and apprehensions. They 
may avoid the labor of doing good, of spending 
their time devoutly, of -laying up treasures in 
heaven, of clothing the naked, of visiting the 
sick; but then they must, like this man, have 
labors and pains in vain, that tend to no use or 
advantage, that do no good either to themselves, 
or others ; they must travail, and labor, and 
work, and dig to hide their talent in the earth. 
They must like him, at the Lord's coming, be 
convicted out of their own mouths, be accused 
by their own hearts, and have every thing that 
they have said and thought of religion, be made 
to show the justice of their condemnation to 
eternal darkness, weeping and gnashing of teeth. 



PEACE AND HAPPINESS OF DEVOTION. 139 

Life rightly employed. The divine approbation. 

On the other hand, would you see a short 
description of the happiness of a life rightly 
employed, wholly devoted to God, you must 
look at the man in the parable, to whom his 
Lord had given five talents. <c Lord, 55 says he, 
" thou deliveredst unto me five talents: behold, 
I have gained besides them five talents more. 
His Lord said unto him, Well done thou good 
and faithful servant 5 thou hast been faithful 
over a few things, I will make thee ruler over 
many things ; enter thou into the joy of thy 
Lord." Here you see that a life that is wholly 
»ntent upon the improvement of the talents that 
s wholly devoted unto God, is a state of happi* 
aess, prosperous labors, and glorious success. 
Here are not, as in the former case, any uneasy 
passions, murmurings, vain fears, and fruitless 
labors. The man is not toiling, and digging in 
the earth for no end or advantage; but his pious 
labors prosper in his hands, his happiness in- 
creases upon him, the blessing of five becomes 
the blessing of ten talents; and he is received 
with a " Well done good and faithful servant, 
enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." 

Now as the case of these men in the parable 
left nothing else to their choice, but either to be 
happy in using their gifts to the glory of the 
Lord, or miserable by using them according to 
their own humors and fancies; so the state of 
Christianity leaves us no other choice. 

All that we have, all that we are, all that we 



140 SERIOUS CALL, 



Strict piety not dull. Poor contrivances. 

enjoy, are only so many talents from God; if 
we use them to the ends of a pious and holy life, 
our five talents will become ten, and our labors 
will carry us into the joy of our Lord; but if 
we abuse them to the gratification of our own 
passions, sacrificing the gifts of God to our 
own pride and vanity, we shall live here in 
vain labors and foolish anxieties, shunning 
religion as a melancholy thing, accusing our 
Lord as a hard master y and then fall into ever- 
lasting misery. 

How ignorant therefore are they of the nature 
of religion, of the nature of man, and the nature 
of God ? who think a life of strict piety to be a 
dull state j when it is so plain and certain, that 
there is neither comfort or joy to be found 
in any thing else? 



CHAP. XII. 

THE HAPPINESS OF A LIFE WHOLLY DEVOTED TO GOD f 
FARTHER PROVED, FROM THE VAIN, SENSUAL, AND 
RIDICULOUS ENJOYMENTS, WHICH THEY ARE FORCED 
TO TAKE UP WITH, WHO LIVE ACCORDING TO THEIR 
OWN HUMORS. 

We may still see more of the happiness of a 
life devoted unto God, by considering the poor 
contrivances for happiness, and the contempti- 
ble ways of life, which they adopt, who are not 
under the directions of strict piety. 



ABSURD ENJOYMENTS OF THE WORLDLY. 141 

Ambition. A fine face. 

Look at their lives, who live by no rule but 
their own humors and fancies. See what it is, 
which they call joy 5 and greatness, and happi- 
ness. See how they rejoice and repent, change 
and fly from one delusion to another; and we 
shall find great reason to rejoice, that God hath 
appointed a strait and narrow way that leadeth 
unto life, and that we are not left to the folly of 
our own minds, or forced to take up with such 
shadows of joy and happiness. 

These things which make up the joy and hap- 
piness of this world, are mere inventions, which 
have no foundation in nature and reason, are 
not the proper good or happiness of man, and 
noway improve either his body, or his mind, or 
carry him to his true end. For instance, when 
a man proposes to be happy in ways of am- 
* bition, by raising himself to some imaginary 
heights above other people ; this is truly an 
invention of happiness which has no foundation 
in nature, but is as mere a cheat of our own 
making, as if a man should intend to make him- 
self happy by climbing up a ladder. If a woman 
seeks for happiness from fine colors or spots 
upon her face, from jewels and rich clothes, 
this is as merely an invention of happiness, as 
contrary to nature and reason, as if she should 
propose to make herself happy, by painting a 
post, and putting the same finery upon it. It is 
in this respect that I call these joys and happi- 
ness of the world, mere inventions of happiness. 



142 SERIOUS CALL. 



Religion delivers from folly. Flatus. 

because neither God, nor nature, nor reason 
has appointed them as such ; but whatever 
appears joyful, or great, or happy in them, is 
entirely created or invented by the blindness and 
vanity of our own minds. 

On these inventions of happiness, I desire you 
to cast your eye, that you may thence learn, how 
great a good religion is, which delivers from 
such a multitude of follies and vain pursuits, as 
are the torment and vexation of minds that wan- 
der from their true happiness in God. 

Flatus is rich and in health, yet always un- 
easy, and always searching after happiness. 
Every time you visit him, you find some new 
project in his head 5 he is eager upon it, as 
something that is more worth his while, and will 
do more for him, than any thing previously at- 
tempted. Every new thing so seizes him, that 
if you was to take him from it, he would think 
himself quite undone. His sanguine temper, 
and strong passions, promise him so much hap- 
piness in every thing, that he is always cheated, 
and is satisfied with nothing. 

At his first setting out in life, fine clothes were 
his delight. His inquiry was only after the best 
tailors, and he had no thoughts of excelling in 
any thing but dress. He spared no expense, but 
carried every nicety to its greatest height. But 
this happiness not answering his expectations, 
he left off his nicety, railed at fops and beaitXj, 
and gave himself up to gaming* 



ABSURD ENJOYMENTS OF THE WORLDLY. 143 

Diversions of the town. Hunting. 

This new pleasure satisfied him for some time, 
he envied no other way of life. But being by 
the fate of play drawn into a duel, where he 
narrowly escaped his death, he left off dice, and 
no longer sought happiness among gamesters. 

The next thing that seized his imagination, 
was the diversions of the town: and for more 
than a twelvemonth, you heard him talk of 
nothing but ladies, drawing-rooms, birth-nights, 
plays, balls, and assemblies. Growing sick of 
these, he had recourse to hard drinking. Here 
he had many a merry night, and met with 
stronger joys than any he had felt before. Here 
he had thoughts of setting up his staff*, and look- 
ing out no farther; but falling into a fever, he 
grew angry at strong liquors, and took his leave 
of inebriation. 

The next attempt after happiness, carried him 
into the field; for two or three years nothing 
was so happy as hunting; he entered upon it 
with all his soul, and leaped more hedges and 
ditches than had ever been known in so short a 
time. You never saw him but in a green coat; 
he was the envy of all who blew the horn, and 
always spoke to his dogs in great propriety of 
language. If you met him at home in a bad 
day, you would hear him blow his horn, and be 
entertained with the surprising accidents of the 
last noble chase. No sooner had Flatus outdone 
all the world in the breed and education of his 
dogs, built new kennels, new stables, and bought 



144 S££10tfS CALL, 



Pleasures of building. Pleasures of riding. 

a new hunting-seat, but he immediately got sight 
of another happiness, hated the senseless noise 
and hurry of hunting, gave away his dogs, and 
was for some time after deep in the pleasures 
of building. 

Now he invents new kinds of dove-cotes, and 
has such contrivances in his barns and stables, 
as were never seen before. He wonders at the 
dulness of the old builders, is wholly bent upon 
the improvement of architecture, and will hardly 
hang a door in the ordinary way. He tells his 
friends, that he never was so delighted in any 
thing in his life; that he has more happiness 
among his brick and mortar, than ever he had at 
court; and that he is contriving how to have 
some little matter to do that way as long as he 
lives. 

The next year he leaves his house unfinished* 
complains to every body of masons and carpen- 
ters, and devotes himself wholly to the happi- 
ness of riding about. After this, you can never 
see him but on horseback, and so highly delight- 
ed with this new way of life, that he would tell 
you, give him but his horse and a clean country 
to ride in, and you might take all the rest to 
yourself. A variety of new saddles and bridles* 
and a great change of horses, added much to the 
pleasure of this new way of life* But however, 
having after some time tired both himself and 
his horses, the happiest thing he could think of 
next, was to go abroad and visit foreign coun- 



ABSURD ENJOYMENTS OF THE WORLDLY. 145 

Foreign travelling. Flatus at a stand. 

tries; and there indeed happiness exceeded his 
imagination, and he was only uneasy that he had 
begun so fine a life no sooner. The next month 
he returned home, unable to bear any longer the 
impertinence of foreigners, 

Flatus is very ill-natured, or otherwise, just as 
his affairs happen to be when you visit him. If 
you find him when some project is almost worn 
out, you will find a peevish ill-bred man; but if 
you had seen him just as he entered upon his 
riding regimen, or begun to excel in sounding 
of the horn, you had been saluted with the 
greatest civility. 

Flatus is at last at a full stand, and doing 
what he never did in his life before, he is 
reasoning and reflecting with himself, which of 
his cast-off ways of life he shall try again. 
But here a new project comes in to his relief. 
He is now living upon herbs, and running about 
the country, to get himself into as good health 
as any running footman. 

I have been thus circumstantial in so many 
foolish particulars of this kind, because I hope, 
that every particular folly that you see here, will 
naturally turn itself into an argument for the 
wisdom and happiness of a religious life. 

If you had but just cast your eye upon a 
madman, or a fool, it perhaps signifies little or 
nothing to you; but if you was to attend them 
for some days, and observe the lamentable mad- 
ness and stupidity of all their actions, this would 
13 



146 SERIOUS CALL. 



The character of Flatus not uncommon. 



be an affecting sight, and would make you often 
bless yourself for the enjoyment of your reason 
and sense. Just so, if you are only told in the 
gross, of the folly and madness of a life devoted 
to the world, it makes little or no impression; 
but if you are shown how such people live every 
day — if you see the continual folly and madness 
of all their particular actions and designs, this 
would be an affecting sight, and make you bless 
God, for having given you to aspire after a 
greater happiness. 

I shall therefore continue this method a little 
farther, and endeavor to recommend the happi- 
ness of piety to you, by showing you in some 
other instances, how miserably and poorly they 
live, who live without it. 

You will perhaps say, that the ridiculous, 
restless life of Flatus, is not the common state 
of those who resign themselves up to live by 
their own humors; and that therefore it is not 
so great an argument for the happiness of a re- 
ligious life, as I would make it. I answer, that 
I am afraid it is one of the most general char- 
acters in life; and that few people can read it, 
without seeing something in it that belongs to 
themselves. For where shall we find that wise 
and happy man, who has not been eagerly pur- 
suing different appearances of happiness, some- 
times thinking it was here, and sometimes there ? 

If people were to divide their lives into par- 
ticular stages, and ask themselves what they 



ABSURD ENJOYMENTS OF THE WORLDLY. 147 

Absurd variety. Uniformity equally absurd. 

were pursuing, or what it was which they had 
chiefly in view, when they were twenty years 
old, what at twenty-five, what at thirty, what at 
forty, what at fifty, and so on, till they were 
brought to their last bed, many would find, that 
they had liked, and disliked, and pursued, as 
many different appearances of happiness, as are 
to be seen in the life of Flatus. 

But let it be granted, that people are seldom of 
such restless tempers as Flatus; the difference 
then is only this, Flatus is continually trying 
something new, but others are content with some 
one state. They have so much steadiness of 
temper, that some of them seek after no other 
happiness, but that of heaping up riches; others 
grow old in the sports of the field; others are 
content to drink themselves to death. Is there 
any thing more happy or reasonable, in such a 
life, than in that of Flatus? Is it not as great 
and desirable, as wise and happy, to be con- 
stantly changing from one thing to another, as 
to be nothing else but a gatherer of money, a 
hunter, a gamester, or a drunkard, all your 
life? 

Shall religion be looked upon as dull and 
melancholy, for calling men from such happiness 
as this, to live according to the laws of God, to 
labor after the perfection of their nature, and 
prepare themselves for an endless state of joy 
and glory? 

Turn your eyes now another w T ay, and let the 



148 SEHIOUS CALI/, 



The happiness of Feliciana. Her vexations. 

— . __ — _ _^ . 

trifling joys of Feliciana, teach you how wise 
they are, what delusion they escape, whose 
hearts and hopes are fixed upon a happiness 
in God. 

If you were to live with Feliciana but one 
half year, you would see all the happiness that 
she is to have as long as she lives. She has no 
more to come, but the poor repetition of that 
which could never have pleased once, but 
through a littleness of mind, and want of 
thought. 

She is again to be dressed fine, and keep her 
visiting day. She is again to change the color 
of her clothes, again to have a new head-dress, 
and again to put patches on her face. She is 
again to see who acts best at the play, and who 
sings finest at the opera. She is again to make 
ten visits in a day, and be ten times in a day 
trying to talk artfully, easily and politely about 
nothing. She is to be again delighted with 
some new fashion; and again angry at the 
change of some old one. She is to be again at 
cards, at midnight, and in bed at noon. She is 
to be again pleased with hypocritical compli- 
ments, and again disturbed with imaginary 
affronts. She is to be again pleased with her 
good luck at play, and again tormented with the 
loss of her money. She is again to prepare 
herself for a birth-night, and again see the town 
full of good company. She is again to hear the 
cabals and intrigues of the town, again to have 



ABSURD EKJOYZrlENTS OF THE WORLDLY. 149 

Feliciana's pleasures poor. Most women's more so. 

secret intelligence of private amours, and early 
notice of marriages, quarrels, and partings. 

These are the substantial and regular parts of 
Feliciana's happiness; and she never knew a 
pleasant day in her life, but it was owing to 
some one, or more of these things. It is for 
this happiness, that she has always been deaf to 
the reasonings of religion, that her heart has 
been too gay and cheerful to consider what is 
right or wrong in regard to eternity; or to listen 
to the sound of such dull words, as wisdom, 
piety and devotion. It is for fear of losing some 
of this happiness, that she refuses to meditate 
on the immortality of her soul, her relation to 
God, or those joys, which makes saints and 
angels infinitely happy in the presence and glory 
of God. 

Now let it here be observed, that poor as this 
round of happiness appears, most women that 
avoid the restraints of religion for a gay life, 
must be content with very small parts of it. As 
they have not Feliciana's fortune and figure in 
the world, so they must give away the comforts 
of a pious life, for a very small part of her 
happiness. 

And if you look into the world, and observe 
the lives of those women, whom no arguments 
can persuade to live wholly unto God, in a wise 
and pious employment of themselves, you will 
find most of them to be such, as lose all the 
comforts of religion, without gaining the tenth 
13* 



150 SERIOUS CALL, 



The happiness of Succus. Good eating. 

part of Feliciana's happiness. They are such 
as spend their time and fortunes only in mimick- 
ing the pleasures of richer people; and rather 
look and long after* than enjoy those delusions* 
which are only to be purchased by considerable 
fortunes. 

But take another example in the poor condi-* 
tion of Succus, whose greatest happiness* is a 
good night's rest, and a good meal. When he 
talks of happiness, it is always in such expres- 
sions* as shows you* that he has only his bed 
and his dinner in his thoughts. 

This regard to his meals and repose* makes 
Succus order all the rest of his time with relation 
to them. He will undertake no business that 
may hurry his spirits, or break in upon his hours 
of eating and rest. If he reads* it shall only be 
for half an hour, because that is sufficient to 
amuse the spirits; and he will read something 
that may make him laugh, as rendering the body 
fitter for its food and rest. Or if he has at any 
time a mind to indulge a grave thought, he 
always has recourse to a useful treatise upon 
ancient cookery. 

He talks coolly and moderately upon all sub- 
jects, and is as fearful of falling into a passion, 
as of catching cold; being very positive, that 
they are both equally injurious to the stomach* 
If you ever see him more hot than ordinary, it is 
upon some provoking occasion, when the dispute 
about cookery runs very high, or in the defence 



ABSURD ENJOYMENTS OF THE WORLDLY. 151 

Further items in the life of Succus. 

of some beloved dish, which has often made him 
happy* But he has been so long upon these 
subjects, is so well acquainted with all that can 
be said on both sides, and has so often answered 
all objections j that he generally decides the mat- 
ter with great gravity. 

All the hours that are not devoted to repose, 
or nourishment, are looked upon as spare time. 
For this reason he lodges near a coffee-house 
and a tavern, that when he rises in the morning, 
he may hear the news, and when he parts at 
night, he may not have far to bed. In the 
morning you always see him in the same place 
in the coffee-room, and if he seems more atten- 
tively engaged than ordinary, it is because some 
criminal is broke out of Newgate, or some lady 
was robbed last night, but they cannot tell 
where. When he has learned all that he can, 
he goes home to settle the matter with the 
barber's boy, that comes to shave him. 

The next waste time that lies upon his hands, 
is from dinner to supper. And if melancholy 
thoughts ever come into his head, it is at this 
time, when he is often left to himself for an hour 
or more, and that after the greatest pleasure he 
knows, is just over. He is afraid to sleep, be- 
cause he -has heard it is not healthful at that 
time, so that he is forced to refuse so welcome a 
guest. But here he is generally relieved by 
playing at cards, till it is time to think of some 
little nice matter for supper. After this, Succus 



152 SEHIOUS CALL. 



Trifling uniformity. Greatness of religion. 

takes his glass, talks of the excellency of the 
English constitution, and praises that minister 
the most, who keeps the best table. 

On a Sunday night you may sometimes hear 
him condemning the iniquity of the town rakes; 
and the bitterest thing that he says against them, 
is this, that he verily believes some of them 
are so abandoned, as not to have a regular meal, 
or a sound night's sleep in a week. 

At eleven, Succus bids all good night, and 
parts in great friendship. He is presently in 
bed, and sleeps till it is time to go to the coffee- 
house next morning. If you was to live with 
Succus for a twelvemonth, this is all that you 
would see in his life, except a few curses and 
oaths that he uses as occasion offers. 

Who can help blessing God for the means of 
grace, and for the hope of glory, when he sees 
what variety of folly they sink into, who live 
without it? Who would not heartily engage in 
all the labors and exercises of a pious life, be 
steadfast, immovable, and always abounding in 
the work of the Lord, when he sees what dull 
sensuality, what poor views, what gross enjoy- 
ments they are left to who seek for happiness in 
other ways. So that whether we consider the 
greatness of religion, or the littleness of all other 
things, and the meanness of all other enjoyments, 
there is nothing to be found in nature for a 
thoughtful mind to rest upon, but a happiness in 
the hopes of religion. 



ABSURD ENJOYMENTS OF THE WORLDLY. 153 
Piety not dull. Summit of mere human happiness. 

Consider how unreasonably it is pretended, 
that a life of strict piety must be dull and 
anxious. Can it be said, that the duties and 
restraints of religion must render our lives mel- 
ancholy, when they only deprive us of such 
gratifications, as has been here laid before you ? 

Must it be tiresome to act wisely and virtu- 
ously, to do good, to imitate the divine perfec- 
tions, and prepare yourself for the enjoyment of 
God? Must it be dull and tiresome, to be deliv- 
ered from blindness and vanity, from false hopes 
and vain fears, to improve in holiness, to feel 
the comforts of conscience in all your actions, to 
know that God is your friend, that all must work 
for your good, that neither life nor death, neither 
men nor devils can do you any harm; but that 
all your sufferings and doings, watchings and 
prayers, labors of love and improvements, are 
in a short time to be rewarded with everlasting 
glory in the presence of God. Must such a state 
as this be dull and tiresome for want of such 
happiness as Flatus or Feliciana enjoys? 

If this cannot be said, then there is no happi- 
ness or pleasure lost, by being strictly pious; nor 
has the devout man any thing to envy in any 
other state of life. For all the art and contriv- 
ance in the world, without religion, cannot make 
more of human life, or carry its happiness to 
any greater height, than Flatus or Feliciana 
have done. The finest wit, the greatest genius 
upon earth, if not governed by religion must be 



154 SERIOUS CALL. 



The empty cup. The wise challenged. 

as foolish, and low, and vain, in his methods of 
happiness, as the poor Succus. 

If you saw a man endeavoring all his life to 
satisfy his thirst, by holding up the same empty 
cup to his mouth, you would certainly despise 
his ignorance. But if you should see others of 
brighter parts, and finer understandings, ridicul- 
ing the dull satisfaction of one cup, and thinking 
to satisfy their thirst by a variety of golden but 
empty cups ; would you think that these were 
ever the wiser, or happier, or better employed? 

Now this is all the difference that you can see 
in mere worldlings. The dull and heavy soul 
may be content with one appearance of happi- 
ness, and be continually trying to hold the same 
empty cup to his mouth. But then, let the wit, 
the great scholar, the fine genius, the great 
statesman, the polite gentleman, lay all their 
heads together, and they can only show you 
more and various appearances of happiness; 
give them all the world into their hands, they 
can only make a great variety of empty cups. 

If you would but use yourself to such medita- 
tions as these, to reflect upon the vanity of all 
orders of life without piety, to consider how all 
the ways of the world, are so many different 
ways of error, blindness, and mistake, you would 
soon find your heart made wiser and better by it. 
These meditations would awaken your soul to a 
zealous desire of that solid happiness, which is 
only to be found in recourse to God. 



155 



CHAP. XIII 

THE MOST REGULAR KIND OF LIFE, THAT IS NOT 
GOVERNED BY GREAT DEVOTION, SUFFICIENTLY 
SHOWS MISERY, WANT, AND EMPTINESS. 

The one thing needful, or the great end of 
life, is not left to be discovered by fine reasoning, 
and deep reflections; but is pressed upon us in 
the plainest manner, by the experience of all our 
senses, by every thing that we meet with in life. 

Let us but intend to see and hear, and the 
whole world becomes a book of wisdom and 
instruction to us. All that is regular in the 
order of nature, all that is accidental in the 
course of things, all the mistakes and disappoint- 
ments that happen to ourselves, all the miseries 
and errors that we see in other people, become 
so many plain lessons of advice to us; teaching 
us with as much assurance as an angel from 
heaven, that we can noways raise ourselves 
to any true happiness, but by turning all our 
thoughts, our wishes, and endeavors, after the 
happiness of another life. 

It is to this right use of the world that I would 
lead you, by directing you to turn your eyes 
upon every shape of human folly, that you may 
thence draw fresh arguments and motives of 
living to the best and greatest purpose of your 
creation. And if you would but carry this inten- 
tion about you, of profiting by the follies of the 



156 SERIOUS CALL. 



Octavins. His resolutions after sickness. 

world, and of learning the greatness of religion, 
from the littleness and vanity of every other way 
of life; you would find every day, every place, 
and every person, a fresh proof of their wis- 
dom, who choose to live wholly unto God. You 
would then return home, the wiser, the better, 
and the more strengthened in religion, by every 
thing that has fallen in your way. 

Octavius is a learned, ingenious man, well 
versed in most parts of literature, and no stran- 
ger to any kingdom in Europe. The other day, 
being just recovered from a lingering fever, he 
took upon him to talk thus to his friends. My 
glass, says he, is almost run out; and your eyes 
see how many marks of age and death I bear 
about me. I plainly feel myself sinking. I fully 
believe, that one year more will conclude my 
reckoning. 

The attention of his friends was much raised 
by such a declaration, expecting to hear some- 
thing truly excellent from so learned a man, who 
had but a year longer to live. When Octavius 
proceeded in this manner : for these reasons, 
my friends, says he, I have left off all taverns, 
the wine of those places is not good enough for 
me in this decay of nature. I must now be nice 
in what I drink; I can't pretend to do as I have 
done; and therefore I am resolved to furnish my 
own cellar with a little of the very best, though 
it cost me ever so much. 

I must also tell you, my friends, that age 



A REGULAR LIFE WITHOUT PIETY. 157 

Octavius dies. Resolutions of Eugenius. 

forces a man to be wise in many other respects, 
and makes us change many of our opinions and 
practices. You know how much I have liked a 
large acquaintance. I now condemn it as an 
error. Three or four cheerful, diverting com- 
panions, is all I now desire ; because I find that 
in my present infirmities, if I am left alone, or 
to grave company, I am not easy. 

A few days after Octavius had made this 
declaration to his friends, he relapsed into his 
former illness, was committed to a nurse, who 
closed his eyes before his fresh parcel of wine 
came in. 

Young Eugenius, who was present at this 
discourse, went home a new man, with full re- 
solutions of devoting himself wholly unto Gcd. 

I never, said he, was so deeply affected with 
the wisdom and importance of religion, as when 
I saw how poorly and meanly the learned Octa- 
vius was to leave the world through the want 
of it. 

| How often had I envied his great learning, his 
skill in language, his knowledge of antiquity, his 
address and fine manner of expressing himself 
upon all subjects ! But when I saw how poorly 
it all ended, what was to be the last year of such 
a life, and how foolishly the master of all these 
accomplishments was then forced to talk, for 
want of being acquainted with the joys and 
expectations of piety; I was thoroughly con- 
vinced, that there was nothing to be envied or 

14 



158 SERIOUS CALL. 



Arguments for piety are always present. 

desired j but a life of true piety : nor any thing 
so poor and comfortless, as a death without it. 

Now as the young Eugenius was thus edified 
and instructed in the present case; so, if you 
have any thing of his thoughtful temper, you 
will find that arguments for the wisdom and 
happiness of a strict piety, offer themselves in 
all places, and appeal to all your senses in the 
plainest manner. 

But, if to these admonitions we add the lights 
of religion, those great truths which the Son of 
God has taught us; it will then be as much past 
all doubt, that there is but one happiness for 
man, as that there is but one God. 

Was all to die with our bodies, there might be 
some pretence for those different sorts of happi- 
ness, that are so much talked of: but since our 
all begins at the death of our bodies; since all 
men are to be immortal either in misery or hap- 
piness, in a world entirely different from this; 
since they are all hastening hence at all uncer- 
tainties, as fast as death can cut them down; 
some in sickness, some in health, some sleeping, 
some waking, some at midnight, others at cock- 
crowing, and all at hours that they know not of; 
is it not certain that no man can exceed another 
in joy and happiness, but so far as he exceeds 
him in those virtues which fit him for a happier 
death ? 

Cognatus is a sober, regular clergyman, of 
good repute in the world, very orthodox, and 



A REGULAR LIFE WITHOUT PIETY. 159 

Cognatus. His clerical life. 

well esteemed in his parish. All his parishion- 
ers say he is an honest man, and very notable at 
making a bargain. The farmers listen to him 
with great attention, when he talks of the most 
proper time of selling corn. 

He has been for twenty years a diligent ob- 
server of markets, and has raised a considerable 
fortune by good management. 

Cognatus has been very prosperous all his 
time 3 but still he has had the uneasiness and 
vexations that they have, who are deep in 
worldly business. Taxes, losses, crosses, bad 
mortgages, bad tenants, and the hardness of the 
times, are frequent subjects of his conversation; 
and a good or bad season has a great effect upon 
his spirits. 

Cognatus has no other end in growing rich, 
but that he may leave a considerable fortune to 
a niece, whom he has politely educated. 

But now if Cognatus when he first entered 
into holy orders, had perceived how absurd a 
thing it is to grow rich by the Gospel: if he had 
proposed to himself the example of some primi- 
tive father; if he had had the piety of the great 
St. Austin in his eye, who durst not enrich any 
of his relations out of the revenue of the church : 
if, instead of twenty years care to lay up trea- 
sures upon earth, he had distributed the income 
of every year in the most Christian acts of chari- 
ty and compassion. If, instead of tempting his 
niece to be proud, and providing her with such 



160 SERIOUS CALL. 



A spoiled niece. Piety increases any happiness. 

ornaments, as the apostle forbids, he had cloth- 
ed, comforted, and assisted numbers of widows, 
orphans, and distressed, who were all to appear 
for him at the last day. If, instead of the cares 
and anxieties of bad bonds, troublesome mort- 
gages and ill bargains, he had had the constant 
comfort of knowing that his treasure was se- 
curely laid up, where neither moth corrupteth 
nor thieves break through and steal; could it 
with any reason be said, that he had mistaken 
the spirit and dignity of his order, or lessened 
any of that happiness which is to be found in 
his sacred employments ? 

If he had thought it better to recommend some 
honest labor to his niece, than to support her in 
idleness could it be said, that this strictness of 
piety, had robbed Cognatus of any real happi- 
ness? Could it be said, that a life thus governed 
by the spirit of the gospel, must be dull and 
melancholy, if compared to that of raising a 
fortune for a niece ? 

Now as this cannot be said in the present 
case, so in every other kind of life, if you enter 
into the particulars of it, you will find, that how- 
ever easy and prosperous it may seem, yet you 
cannot add piety to any part of it, without add- 
ing so much of a better joy and happiness. 

Look now at that condition of life which 
draws the envy of all eyes. 

Negotius is a temperate, honest man. He 
served his time under a master of great trade, 



A REGULAR LIFE WITHOUT PIETY. 161 

Negotius His business life. 

but has by his own management made it a more 
considerable business than ever it was before. 
For thirty years last past, he has wrote fifty or 
sixty letters in a w T eek, and is busy in corres- 
ponding with all parts of Europe. The general 
good of trade seems to Negotius to be the gen- 
eral good of life; whomsoever he admires, what- 
ever he commends or condemns, either in church 
or state, is admired, commended, or condemned, 
with some regard to trade. 

As money is continually pouring in upon him y 
so he often lets it go in various kinds of ex- 
pense and generosity, and sometimes in ways of 
charity. 

Negotius is always ready to join in any public 
contribution. If a purse is making at any place 
where he happens to be, whether it be to buy a 
plate for a horse-race, or to redeem a prisoner 
out of jail, you are always sure of having some- 
thing from him. 

If you ask what it is that has secured him 
from scandalous vices, it is the same thing that 
has kept him from all strictness of devotion, 
viz. his great business. He has always had too 
many important things in his head, his thoughts 
have been too much employed, to suffer him to 
fall either into any course of rakery, or to feel 
the necessity of an inward, solid piety. 

For this reason he hears of the pleasures of 
debauchery, and the pleasures of piety, with the 
same indifference; and has no more desire of 

14* 



162 SERIOUS CALL. 



The want of a distinct aim. A false estimate. 

living in the one than in the other, because 
neither of them consist with his turn of mind. 

If Negotius was asked, what it is that he 
drives at in life, he would be as much at a loss 
for an answer, as if he was asked, what any 
other person is thinking of. For though he al- 
ways seems to himself to know what he is doing, 
and has many things in his head, which are the 
motives of his actions; yet he cannot tell you 
of any general end of life, that he has chosen 
with deliberation, as being truly worthy of all 
his pains. 

He has several confused notions in his head, 
which have been a long time there; such as 
these, viz. That it is something great to have 
more business than other people, to have more 
dealings upon his hands than an hundred of the 
same profession; to grow continually richer and 
richer, and to raise an immense fortune before 
he dies* 

The generality of people, when they think of 
happiness, think upon Negotius, in whose life 
every instance of happiness is supposed to meet; 
sober, prudent, rich, prosperous, generous, and 
charitable* Let us now therefore look at this 
condition in another but truer light. 

Let it be supposed, that this same Negotius 
grew old in this course of trading ; and that 
the result of all this labor, and care, and 
application to business, was only this, that he 
should die possessed of more than a hundred 



A REGULAR LIFE WITHOUT PIETY. 16S 

touts and spurs. The final trial. 

thousand pairs of boots and spurs, and as many 
great coats. 

I believe it would be readily granted, that a 
life of such business was as poor and ridiculous 
as any that can be invented. It would puzzle 
any one to show, that a man who has spent all 
his time and thoughts in business, that he might 
die worth a hundred thousand pounds, is any 
whit wiser than he 3 who has taken the same 
pains to have as many pairs of boots and spurs 
when he leaves the world. 

If the temper and state of our souis be our 
whole state; if the only end of life be to die as 
free from sin, and as exalted in virtue as we 
can; if as we came naked, so w r e are to return, 
and to stand a trial before Christ, and his holy 
angels, for everlasting happiness or misery; what 
can it possibly signify what a man had, or had 
not, in this world? What can it signify what 
you call those things which a man has left be- 
hind him; whether you call them his, or any 
one's else; whether you call them trees or fields, 
or birds and feathers; whether you call them an 
hundred thousand pounds, or a hundred thous- 
and pair of boots and spurs. I say, call them; 
for the things signify no more to him than the 
names. 

If when he has got all, his soul is to go among 
separate spirits, and his body be laid by in a 
coffin, till the last trumpet calls him to judgment j- 
where the inquiry will be, how humbly, devout- 



164 SfiKIOuS CALL. 



The different life Negotius might have led. 

ly, charitably, and heavenly we have spoken, 
thought and acted, whilst we were in the body; 
how can we say, that he who has wore out his 
life in raising a hundred thousand pounds, has 
acted wiser for himself, than he who has taken 
the same care to procure a hundred thousand of 
any thing else ? 

But farther: Let it now be supposed, that 
Negotius, when he first entered into business, 
found that he had a much greater business upon 
his hands, than that to which he had served an 
apprenticeship: that there were things which 
belong to man, of much greater importance than 
all that our eyes can see; so glorious as to de- 
serve all our thoughts; so dangerous, as to need 
all our care; and so certain, as never to deceive 
the faithful laborer. Let it be supposed, that he 
discovered that his soul was more to him than 
his body; that it was better to grow in the virtues 
than to have a full purse; that it was better to 
be fit for heaven, than to have a variety of fine 
houses upon the earth; that it was better to 
secure an everlasting happiness, than to have 
plenty of things which he cannot keep; better to 
live in habits of humility, piety, devotion, char- 
ity, and self-denial, than to die unprepared for 
judgment; better to be most like our Savior, or 
some eminent saint, than to excel all the trades- 
men in the world in business and bulk of fortune. 
Let it be supposed, that Negotius believing 
these things to be true, had entirely devoted 



A REGULAR LIFE WITHOUT PIETY. 165 

The vast diiierence of the result. 

himself to God at his first setting out in the 
world, resolving to pursue his business no far- 
ther than was consistent with great devotion, 
humility, and self-denial 3 and for no other ends, 
but to provide himself with a sober subsistence, 
and to do all the good that he could. 

Let it therefore be supposed, that instead of 
the continual hurry of business, he was frequent 
in his retirements, and a strict observer of all the 
hours of prayer; that instead of restless desires, 
his soul had been full of the love of God, con- 
stantly watching against worldly tempers, and 
aspiring after divine grace; that instead of 
worldly cares and contrivances, he w T as busy in 
fortifying his soul against all approaches of sin; 
that instead of costly show and expensive gene- 
rosity of a splendid life, he loved and exercised 
all instances of humility and lowliness; that in- 
stead of great treats and full tables, his house 
only furnished a sober refreshment to those that 
wanted it. 

Had this been the christian spirit of Negotius, 
can any one say, that he had lost the true joy 
and happiness of life ? 

Can it be said, that a life made exemplary by 
such virtues as keep heaven always in our sight, 
delight and exalt the soul here, and prepare it 
for the presence of God hereafter, must be poor 
and dull, if compared to that of heaping up 
riches, which can neither stay with us, nor we 
with them? 



166 SERIOUS CALL. 



What would be prudent in a consumptive man. 

Imagine to yourself some person in a con- 
sumption, or any other incurable distemper, 
wholly intent upon doing every thing in the 
spirit of religion, making the wisest use of all 
his time, fortune and abilities. If he was for 
carrying every duty of piety to its greatest 
height, and striving to have all the advantage 
that could be had from the remainder of his life; 
if he avoided all business, but such as was 
necessary; if he was averse to all the follies and 
vanities of the world, had no taste for finery and 
show, but sought all his comfort in the hopes 
and expectations of religion; you would certain- 
ly commend his prudence, you would say, that 
he had taken the right method to make himself 
as joyful and happy as any one can be in a state 
of such infirmity. 

On the other hand, if you should see the same 
person, with trembling hands, short breath, thin 
jaws, and hollow eyes, wholly intent upon 
business and bargains, as long as he could speak; 
if you should see him pleased with fine clothes, 
when he could scarce stand to be dressed, and 
laying out his money in horses and dogs, you 
would certainly condemn him. 

Now as it is easy to see the reasonableness 
of a religious spirit in a consumptive man; so 
we may easily perceive the wisdom of a pious 
temper in every other state of life. 

How soon will every man that is in health, be 
in the state of him that is in a consumption! 



A REGULAR LIFE WITHOUT PIETY. 167 

No man can calculate on long lite. 

How soon will he want all the same comforts 
and satisfactions of religion, which every dying 
man wants ! If it be wise and happy to live 
piously, because we have not above a year to 
live, is it not being more wise, and making our- 
selves more happy, because we may have more 
years? If one year of piety before we die, is 
so desirable, are not more years of piety much 
more desirable ? 

If a man had five fixed years to live, he could 
not possibly think at all, without intending to 
make the best use of them all. When he saw 
his stay so short in this world, he must needs 
think that this was not a world for him; and 
when he saw how near he was to another world, 
that was eternal, he must surely think it very 
necessary to be diligent in preparing himself 
for it. Now who but a madman can reckon 
that he has five years certain to come ? 

If we were to add twenty years to the five, 
which is in all probability more than will be 
added to the lives of many; what a poor thing is 
this ! How small a difference is there between 
five and twenty-five years ! 

We can never make any true judgment of time 
as it relates to us, without considering the true 
state of our duration. If we are temporary beings, 
then a little time may justly be called a great deal 
in relation to us; but if we are eternal beings, 
then the difference of a few years is as nothing. 
Suppose three different sorts of rational 



168 SERIOUS CALL. 



The true value of time. Proportions of duration. 

beings, all of different but fixed duration; one 
sort that lived certainly only a month, the other 
a year, and the third a hundred years. Now if 
these beings were to meet together, and talk 
about time, they must talk in a very different 
language: half an hour to those that were to 
live but a month, must be a very different thing, 
to what it is to those who are to live a hundred 
years. As therefore time is thus a different 
thing with regard to the state of those who 
enjoy it, so if we would know what time is with 
regard to ourselves, we must consider our state. 

Since our eternal state is as certainly ours, 
as our present state; since we are as certainly 
to live for ever, as we now live at all; it is 
plain that we cannot judge of the value of any 
particular time, as to us, but by comparing it to 
that eternal duration for which we are created. 

If you would know, what five years signify to 
a being that was to live a hundred, you must 
compare five to a hundred, and see what propor- 
tion it bears to it, and then you will judge right. 
So if you would know what twenty years signify- 
to a son of Adam, you must compare it, not to a 
million of ages, but an eternal duration, to which 
no number of millions bears any proportion. 

How would you condemn the folly of a man, 
who should lose his share of future glory, for 
the sake of being rich, or great, or praised, or 
delighted in any enjoyment, only one poor day 
before he was to die. But if the time will come 



A REGULAR LIFE WITHOUT PIETY. 169 

A day seerns a trifle. All time is a tririe. 

when years will seem less to every one, than a 
day does now; what a condemnation must it be, 
if eternal happiness should be lost, for something 
less than the enjoyment of a day! 

Why does a day seem a trifle to us now? It 
is because we haye years to set against it. It is 
the duration of years that makes it appear as 
nothing. What a trifle, therefore, must the 
years of a man's age appear, when they are 
forced to be set against eternity, when there 
shall be nothing but eternity to compare them 
with. Now this will be the case of every man, 
as soon as he is out of the body; he will be 
forced to forget the distinctions of days and 
years, and to measure time, not by the course 
of the sun, but by setting it against eternity. 

As the fixed stars, by reason of our being 
placed at such distance from them, appear but 
as so many points; so when we are placed in 
eternity, shall look back upon all time, it will 
all appear but as a moment. Then a luxury, an 
indulgence, a prosperity, a greatness of fifty 
years, will seem to every one that looks back 
upon it, as the same poor, short enjoyment, as if 
he had been snatched away in his first sin. 

These few reflections upon time, are only to 
show how poorly they think, and how miserably 
they act, who are less careful of an eternal 
state, because they may be at some years' dis- 
tance from it, than they would be, if they knew 
they were within a few weeks of it. 
15 



170 SERIOUS CALL. 



CHAP. XIV. 

OF EARLY PRAYER IN THE MORNING. HOW WE ARE 
TO IMPROVE OUR FORMS OF PRAYER, AND HOW TO 
INCREASE THE SPIRIT OF DEVOTION. 

Having in the foregoing chapters shown the 
necessity of a devout habit of mind in every 
part of our common life, in the discharge 
of all our business, in the use of all the gifts 
of God: I come now to consider that part of 
devotion, which relates to times and hours of 
prayer. 

I take it for granted, that every Christian, 
who is in health, is up early in the morning; 
for it is much more reasonable to suppose a 
person up early, because he is a Christian, than 
because he is a laborer, or a tradesman, or a 
servant, or has business that wants him. We 
naturally conceive some abhorrence of a man 
that is in bed, when he should be at his labor, or 
in his shop. We cannot tell how to think any 
thing good of him, who is such a slave to drow- 
siness, as to neglect his business for it. 

How odious therefore we must appear in the 
sight of Heaven, if we are in bed, shut up in 
sleep and darkness, when we should be praising 
God; and are such slaves to drowsiness, as to 
neglect our devotions for it. 

Prayer is the nearest approach to God, and 
the highest enjoyment of him, that we are 



EARLY MORNING DEVOTION. 171 

The Christian's highest state. The poorest enjoyment. 

capable of in this life. It is the noblest exercise 
of the soul, the most exalted use of our best fac- 
ulties, and the highest estimation of the blessed 
inhabitants of heaven. 

When our hearts are full of God, sending up 
holy desires to the throne of grace, we are then 
in our highest state, we are upon the utmost 
heights of human greatness; we are not before 
kings and princes, but in the presence and audi- 
ence of the Lord of all the world, and can be no 
higher, till death is swallowed up in glory. 

On the other hand, sleep is the poorest, dullest 
refreshment of the body, and is so far from 
being intended as an enjo} r ment, that we are 
forced to receive it either in a state of insensi- 
bility, or in the folly of dreams. Among animals 
we despise them most, which are most drowsy. 
He therefore who chooses to enlarge the in- 
dulgence of sleep, rather than be early at his 
devotions, chooses the dullest refreshment of the 
body, before the highest, noblest employment 
of the soul ; he chooses that state, which is a 
reproach to mere animals, rather than that exer- 
cise, which is the glory of angels. 

You will perhaps say, though you rise late, 
yet you are always careful of your devotions 
when you are up. It may be so. But what 
then ? Is it well to rise late, because you pray 
when you are up ? It is as much your duty to 
rise to pray, as to pray when you rise. And if 
you are late at your prayers, you offer to God 



172 SERIOUS CALL. 



The evil effect of drowsy indulgence. 



the prayers of an idle, slothful worshipper, that 
rises to prayers, as idle servants rise to their 
labor. 

Farther, if you fancy that you are careful of 
your devotions, when you are up, though it be 
your custom to rise late, you deceive yourself; 
for you cannot perform your devotions as you 
ought. For he that cannot deny himself this 
drowsy indulgence, but must pass away good 
part of the morning iu it, is no more prepared 
for prayer when he is up, than he is prepared 
for fasting, abstinence, or any other self-denial. 
He may indeed more easily read over a form of 
prayer, than he can perform these duties: but 
he is no more disposed to enter into the true 
spirit of prayer, than he is disposed to fasting. 
Sleep thus indulged, gives a softness and idle- 
ness to all our tempers, and makes us unable to 
relish any thing, but what suits with an idle 
state of mind, and gratifies our natural tempers. 
So that a person that is a slave to this idleness, 
is in the same temper when he is up; and though 
he is not asleep, yet he is under the effects of it: 
and every thing that is idle, indulgent, or sen- 
sual, pleases him for the same reason that sleep 
pleases him. On the other hand, every thing 
that requires care, or trouble, or self-denial, is 
hateful to him, for the same reason that he hates 
to rise. He that places any happiness in this 
morning indulgence, would be glad to have all 
the day made happy in the same manner; though 



early Morning devotion. 118 

The habit of sensuality. Its injurious effects. 

not with sleep, yet with such enjoyments as 
gratify and indulge the body in the same manner 
as sleep does. 

Now you do not imagine that such a one can 
truly mortify that body which he thus indulges; 
yet you might as well think this, as that he can 
truly perform his devotions; or live in such a 
drowsy state of indulgence, and yet relish the 
joys of a spiritual life. 

It is not possible for an epicure to be truly de- 
vout; he must renounce this habit of sensuality, 
before he can relish the happiness of devotion. 

Now he that turns sleep into an idle indul- 
gence, does as much to corrupt and disorder his 
soul, to make it a slave to bodily appetites, and 
keep it incapable of all devout and heavenly 
tempers, as he that turns the necessities of eating 
into a course of indulgence. 

A person that eats and drinks too much, does 
not feel such effects from it, as those do who live 
in notorious instances of gluttony and intempe- 
rance; but yet his course of indulgence, though 
it be not scandalous in the eyes of the world, 
nor such as torments his own conscience, is a 
great and constant hinderance to his improve- 
ment in virtue ; it gives him eyes that see not, 
and ears that hear not; it creates a sensuality in 
the soul, increases the power of bodily passions, 
and makes him incapable of entering into the 
true spirit of religion. Now this is the case of 
those who waste their time in sleep; it does not 

15* 



174 SERIOtJS CALL. 



Devotion is a state of the heart. Mortification. 

disorder their lives, or wound their consciences^ 
as notorious acts of intemperance do 3 but like 
any other more moderate course of indulgence^ 
it silently, and by smaller degrees 3 wears away 
the spirit of religion, and sinks the soul into a 
state of dulness and sensuality. 

If you consider devotion only as a time of 
so much prayer, you may perhaps perform it 3 
though you live in this daily indulgence; but if 
you consider it as a state of the heart, as the lively 
fervor of a soul, deeply affected with a sense of 
its own misery and infirmities, and desiring the 
spirit of God more than all things in the world, 
you will find that the spirit of indulgence, and 
the spirit of prayer, cannot subsist together. 
Mortification of all kinds, is the very life and 
soul of piety: but he that has not so small a de- 
gree of it, as to be able to be early at his prayers, 
can have little reason to think that he has taken 
up his cross, and is following Christ. What 
conquest has he got over himself— what right 
hand has he cut off— what trials is he prepared 
for — what sacrifice is he ready to offer unto God, 
who cannot rise to prayer at such time as the 
drudging part of the world are content to rise 
to their labor? 

Some people will tell you, that they indulge 
in sleep, because they have nothing to do. But 
such must be told, that they mistake the matter; 
that they have a great deal of business to do. 
They have a hardened heart td change. They 



EAULTT MORNING DEVOTION. 175 

Softness. Scripture piety. 

have the whole spirit of religion to get. For 
surely? he that thinks devotion to be of less mo- 
ment than business or pleasure; or that he has 
nothing to do, because nothing but his prayers 
want him, may be justly said to have the whole 
spirit of religion to seek* 

, Consider therefore not how small a crime it is 
to rise late, but consider how great a misery it is 
to want the spirit of religion; to have a heart 
not rightly affected with prayer; and to live in 
such softness and idleness, as makes you incapa- 
ble of the most fundamental duties of a truly 
Christian and spiritual life* 

This is the right way of judging of the crime 
of wasting your time in bed. 

When you read the Scriptures, you see a re- 
ligion that is all life, and spirit, and joy in God: 
that supposes our soul risen from earthly desires, 
and bodily indulgences, to prepare for another 
body, another world, and other enjoyments. 
You see Christians represented as temples of 
the Holy Ghost, as children of the day, as can- 
didates for an eternal crown, as watchful virgins, 
that have their lamps always burning in expec- 
tation of the bridegroom. But can he be thought 
to have this joy in God, this care of eternity, 
this watchful spirit, who has not zeal enough to 
rise to his prayers? 

If I were to desire you not to study the grati- 
fication of your palate, I would not insist much 
upon the crime of wasting your money in such a 



176 SERIOUS CALL. 



Early rising as a part of self-denial. 



way, though it be a great one; but I would de- 
sire you to renounce such a way of life, because 
it supports you in such a state of sensuality and 
indulgence, as renders you incapable of relishing 
religion* For the same reason, I do not insist, 
much on the crime of wasting time in sleeps 
though it be a great one; but I desire you to 
renounce this indulgence, because it gives a soft- 
ness and idleness to your soul; and is contrary 
to that lively, zealous, watchful, self-denying 
spirit, which was not only the spirit of Christ 
and his apostles, the spirit of all the saints and 
martyrs which have ever been among men, but 
must be the spirit of all those who would not 
sink in the common corruption of the world. 

Here therefore we must fix our charge against 
this practice. We blame it, not as having this 
or that particular evil, but as a general habit 
that extends itself through our whole spirit, and 
supports a state of mind that is wholly wrong. 
It is contrary to piety; not as accidental slips 
and mistakes in life are contrary to it, but in 
such a manner, as an ill habit of body is con- 
trary to health. 

On the other hand, if you were to rise early 
every morning, as a self-denial, as a means of 
redeeming time, and fitting your spirit for pray- 
er, you would find mighty advantages from it. 
This method, though it seems such a small cir- 
cumstance of life, would in all probability be a 
means of great piety. It would keep it constant- 



EARLY MORNING DEVOTION. 177 

Self-control. The prayer of the lips. 

ly in your head, that softness and idleness were 
to be avoided, that self-denial was a part of 
Christianity. It would teach you to exercise 
power over yourself, and make you able by 
degrees to renounce other pleasures and tempers 
that war against the soul. 

This one rule would teach you to think of 
others; it would dispose your mind to exactness, 
and be very likely to bring the remaining part of 
the day under rules of prudence and devotion. 

He that is thus prepared for prayer, who rises 
with these dispositions, is in a very different 
state from him who has no rules of this kind: 
who rises by chance, as he happens to be weary 
■of his bed, or is able to sleep no longer. If 
such an one prays only with his mouth; if his 
heart feels nothing of that which he says; if his 
prayers are only things of course; if they are a 
lifeless form of words, which he only repeats 
because they are soon said, there is nothing to 
be wondered at: for such dispositions are the 
natural effect of such a state of life. 

Hoping, that you are convinced of the neces- 
sity of rising early to prayer, I shall proceed to 
lay before you a method of daily prayer. 



178 SERIOtTS CALL. 

CHAP. XV. 

A METHOD OF DAILY PRAYER AND READING. 

The first thing that you are to do, when yon 
are upon your knees, is to shut your eyes, and 
with a short silence let your soul place itself in 
the presence of God. That is, you are to use 
this, or some better method, to separate yourself 
from all common thoughts, and make your heart 
as sensible as you can of the divine presence. 

If you were to use yourself, as far as you can 3 
to pray always in the same place; if you were 
to reserve that place for devotion, if any little 
room, or any particular part of a room was thus 
used, this kind of consecration of it, as a place 
holy unto God, would have an effect upon your 
mind, and dispose you to such tempers, as would 
very much assist your devotion. For by having 
a place thus sacred in your room, it would in 
some measure resemble a chapel, or house of 
God. This would dispose you to be always in 
the spirit of religion, when you were there; and 
fill you with wise and holy thoughts, when you 
were by yourself. 

When you begin your petitions, use various 
expressions of the attributes of God, like these : 
" O Being of all beings, Fountain of all light 
and glory, gracious Father of men and angels, 
whose universal spirit is every where present^ 



A METHOD OF DAILY DEVOTIONS. 179 

Specimens of allusions and petitions. 

giving life, and light, and joy, to all angels in 
heaven, and all creatures upon earth," &c. 

When you direct any of your petitions to our 
blessed Lord, let it be in some expressions of 
this kind: " O Savior of the world; thou who 
art the Brightness of thy Father's glory, and 
the express Image of his Person; thou who art 
the Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and End 
of all things : thou who hast destroyed the power 
of the devil; thou who hast overcome death; 
thou who art entered into the holy of holies; 
who sittest at the right hand of the Father; who 
art high above all thrones and principalities, 
who makest intercession for all the world; thou 
who art the Judge of the quick and dead ; 
thou who wilt speedily come down in thy Fath- 
er's glory, to reward all men according to their 
works, be thou my light and my peace," &c. 

Representations which describe so many 
characters of our Savior's nature and power, are 
not only proper acts of adoration, but will, if 
they are repeated with attention, fill our hearts 
with the highest fervors of true devotion. 

Again, if you ask any particular grace of our 
blessed Lord, let it be in some manner like this: 

" O holy Jesus, son of the most high God, 
thou who wast scourged at a pillar, stretched 
and nailed on a cross for the sins of the world, 
unite me to thy cross, and fill my soul with thy 
holy, humble, and suffering spirit. O Fountain 
of mercy, thou who didst save the thief upon the 



180 SERIOUS CALL. 



.Advantage of such appeals. Mode of reading. 

cross, save me from the guilt of a sinful life: 
thou who didst cast seven devils out of Mary 
Magdalene, cast out of my heart all evil thoughts, 
and wicked tempers. O giver of life, thou who 
didst raise Lazarus from the dead, raise up my 
soul from the death and darkness of sin. Thou 
who didst give to thy apostles power over un- 
clean spirits, give me power over mine own 
heart. Thou who didst appear unto thy disci- 
ples when the doors were shut, do thou appear 
to me in the secret apartment of my heart. 
Thou who didst cleanse the lepers, heal the sick, 
and give sight to the blind, cleanse my heart, 
heal the disorders of my soul, and fill me with 
heavenly light." 

These appeals have a double advantage. 
They are so many proper acts of faith, w r hereby 
we not only show our belief of the miracles of 
Christ, but turn them at the same time into so 
many instances of worship and adoration. They 
also strengthen and increase the faith of our 
prayers, by presenting to our mind so many in- 
stances of that power and goodness, which we 
call upon for our own assistance. 

When at any time, in reading the Scripture or 
any book of piety, you meet with a passage that 
more than ordinarily affects your mind, and 
seems to give your heart a new motion towards 
God, try to turn it into the form of a petition, 
and then give it a place in your prayers. By 
this means, you would be often improving your 



A METHOD OF DAILY DEVOTIONS. 181 

Fixed subjects for set hours. Morning. 

prayers, and storing yourself with proper forms 
of making the desires of your heart known unto 
God. 

At all the stated hours of prayer, it will be of 
great benefit to you, to have something fixed, 
and something at liberty, in your devotions. 
You should have some fixed subject, which is 
constantly to be the chief matter of your prayer 
at that particular time 5 and yet have liberty to 
add such other petitions, as your condition may 
then require. 

For instance: as the morning is to you the 
beginning of new life; as God has then given 
you a new enjoyment of yourself, and a fresh 
entrance into the world, it is highly proper that 
your first devotions should be a praise and 
thanksgiving to God, as for a new creation; and 
that you should offer and devote body and soul, 
all that you are, and all that you have, to his 
service and glory. 

Receive every day as a resurrection from 
death, as a new enjoyment of life; meet every 
rising sun with such sentiments of God's good- 
ness, as if you had seen it, and all things, new 
created upon your account; and under the sense 
of so great a blessing, let your joyful heart, 
praise and magnify so good and glorious a 
Creator. Let therefore praise and thanksgiving, 
and oblation of yourself unto God, be always a 
part of your first prayers in the morning; and 
then add such other devotions, as the difference of 
16 



182 SERIOUS CALL. 



Difference of condition. Difference of feelings. 

your state, or your heart, shall then make most 
expedient for you. 

By the difference of our state, is meant the 
difference of our external state or condition, as 
of sickness, health, pains, losses, disappoint- 
ments, troubles, particular mercies or judgments 
from God; and all sorts of kindnesses, injuries, 
or reproaches from other people. Now as these 
are great parts of our state of life, as they make 
great differences in it, by continually changing; 
so our devotion will be doubly beneficial to us, 
when it watches to receive and sanctify all these 
changes, and turns them all into occasions of 
such thanksgivings, such resignation, and such 
petitions as our present state more especially 
requires. 

He that makes every change in his state 
a reason of presenting to God some particular 
petitions suitable to that change, will soon find, 
that he has taken an excellent means, not only 
of praying with fervor, but of living as he prays. 

The next condition to which we are always to 
adapt some part of our prayers, is the difference 
of our hearts; by which is meant the different 
state of the tempers of our hearts, as of love, 
joy, peace, tranquillity; dulness of spirit, 
anxiety, discontent, envy and ambition, dark 
and disconsolate thoughts, resentments, fretful- 
ness and peevish tempers. Now as these tem- 
pers, through the weakness of our nature will 
have their succession more or less, even in pious 



A METHOD OF DAILY DEVOTIONS. 183 

Minuteness in prayer. Happy employment. 



minds; so we should constantly make the present 
state of our heart, the reason of some particular 
application to God. 

By watching and attending to the present state 
of our hearts, and suiting some of our petitions 
exactly to their wants, we shall not only be 
well acquainted with the disorders of our souls, 
but also be well exercised in the method of 
curing them. 

By this prudent and wise application of our 
prayers, we shall get all the relief from them 
that is possible; and the very changeableness of 
our hearts, will prove a means of exercising a 
greater variety of holy tempers. 

Happy are they, who have this business and 
employment upon their hands ! If people of 
leisure, who are so much at a loss how to dispose 
of their time, and are forced into poor contri- 
vances, idle visits, and ridiculous diversions, 
merely to get rid of hours that hang heavily 
upon their hands-^-if such were to appoint some 
certain spaces of their time, to the study of de- 
votion, searching after all the means and helps 
to attain a devout spirit — if they were to collect 
the best forms of devotion, to use themselves to 
transcribe the finest passages of Scripture pray- 
ers — if they were to collect the devotions, con- 
fessions, petitions, praises, resignations, and 
thanksgivings, which are scattered up and down 
in the Psalrns, and range them under proper 
heads, as so much proper fuel for the flame of 



184 SERIOUS CALL. 

Persons of leisure. Want of consideration. 

their own devotion — if their minds were often 
thus employed, sometimes meditating upon them^ 
sometimes getting them by heart, and making 
them as habitual as their own thoughts, how 
fervently would they pray ! 

How much better would it be, to make this 
benefit of leisure time, than to be dully and idly 
lost in the poor impertinences of a playing, 
visiting, wandering life 1 

How much better, to be thus teaching their 
souls to ascend to God, than to corrupt, bewilder 
and confound their hearts with the wild fancies,, 
and lustful thoughts of lewd poets ! 

Though people of leisure seem called more 
particularly to this study of devotion, yet persons 
of much business or labor, must not think them- 
selves excused from this or some better method 
of improving their devotion. For the greater 
their business is, the more need they have of 
some such method as this, to prevent its power 
over their hearts; to secure them from sinking 
into worldly tempers, and to preserve a sense 
and taste of heavenly things in their minds. 
And a little time regularly and constantly em- 
ployed to any one use or end, will do great 
things, and produce mighty effects. 

It is for want of considering devotion in this 
light, as something that is to be nursed and 
cherished with care, that is to be made part of 
our business, that is to be improved by art, and 
method, and a diligent use of the best helps; 



A METHOD OF DAILY DEVOTIONS. 185 

Eagerness of the worldly minded. Mundanus. 

that so many people are so little benefitted by it. 
For though the spirit of devotion is the gift of 
God, and not attainable by any mere power of 
our own. yet it is never withheld, from those, 
who by a wise and diligent use of proper means, 
prepare themselves for the reception of it. 

It is amazing to see how eagerly men employ 
their parts, their sagacity, time, study, applica- 
tion, and exercise; how all helps are called to 
their assistance, when any thing is intended and 
desired in worldly matters; and how dull, negli- 
gent, and unimproved they are, how little they 
use their parts, sagacity, and abilities, to raise 
and increase their devotion! 

Mundanus is a man of excellent parts, and 
clear apprehension. He is well advanced in 
age, and has made a great figure in business. 
Every part of trade and business that has fallen 
in his way, has had some improvement from 
him: and he is always contriving to carrv every 
method of doing any thing well, to its greatest 
height. Mundanus aims at the greatest perfec- 
tion in every thing. He can tell you all the 
defects and errors in all the common methods, 
whether of trade, building, manufactures, or 
improving land. The clearness and strength of 
his understanding, which he is constantly im- 
proving, by continual exercise in these matters, 
by often digesting his thoughts in writing, and 
trying every thing every way, has rendered him 
a great master of most concerns in human life. 

16* 



186 SERIOUS CALL. 



Childish forms of prayer. Strange infatuation. 

Thus has Mundanus gone on, increasing in 
knowledge and judgment., as fast as years came 
upon him. The one only thing which has not 
fallen under his improvement, nor received any 
benefit from his judicious mind, is his devotion. 
This is just in the same poor state it was, when 
he was only six years of age; and the old man 
prays now, in that little form of words, which 
his mother used to hear him repeat night and 
morning. 

Thus Mundanus, that hardly ever saw the 
poorest utensil, or ever took the meanest trifle 
into his hand, without considering how it might 
be made or used to better advantage, has gone 
all his life long praying in the same manner as 
when he was a child ! 

If Mundanus sees a book of devotion, he 
passes it by, as he does a spelling-book, because 
he remembers that he learned to pray so many 
years ago under his mother, when he learned to 
spell. 

Now how poor and pitiable is the conduct of 
this man of sense, who has so much judgment 
and understanding in every thing but that which 
is the whole wisdom of man ! And how mise- 
rably do many people more or less imitate this 
conduct ! 

All this seems to be owing to a strange, 
infatuated state of negligence, which keeps 
people from considering what devotion is. For 
if they did but once reflect about it, they would 



A METHOD OF DAILY DEVOTIONS, 187 

f i r > — — ■ 

Classicus. His literary taste. 

soon see that the spirit of devotion was like any 
other sense or understanding, that is only to be 
improved by study, care, application, and the 
use of such helps, as are necessary to make a 
man a proficient in any art or science* 

Classicus is a man of learning, and versed in 
all the best authors of antiquity. He has read 
them so much, that he has entered into their 
spirit, and can very ingeniously imitate the 
manner of any of them. He is so great a friend 
to this improvement of the mind, that if he 
meets a young scholar, he never fails to advise 
him concerning his studies. 

Classicus tells his young man, he must not 
think that he has done enough, when he has only 
learned languages; but that he must be daily 
conversant with the best authors; read them 
again and again, catch their spirit by living with 
them, and that there is no other way of becom- 
ing like them, or of making himself a man of 
taste and judgment. 

How wise might Classicus have been, and 
how much good might he have done in the 
world, if he had but thought as justly of devo- 
tion, as he does of learning? 

The two testaments would not have had so 
much as a place among his books, but that they 
are both to be had in Greek. Classicus thinks 
that he sufficiently shows his regard for the holy 
Scripture, when he tells you that he has no other 
book of piety besides them. 



188 SERIOtJS CALL. 



His inconsistency. Reading good books useful. 

It is very well, Classicus, that you prefer the 
Bible to all other books of piety; he has no 
judgment, that is not thus far of your opinion. 
But if you will have no other book of piety 
besides the Bible, because it is the best, how 
comes it, Classicus, that you do not content 
yourself with one of the best books among the 
Greeks and Romans? How comes it that you 
are so greedy and eager after all of them? How 
comes it that you think the knowledge of one 
is a necessary help to the knowledge of the 
other? How comes it that you are so earnest, so 
laborious, and so expensive of time and money 
to restore broken periods and scraps of the 
ancients ? 

How comes it that you read so many com^ 
mentators upon Cicero, Horace, and Homer 5 
and not one upon the gospel? How comes it 
that your love of Cicero, and Ovid, makes you 
love to read an author that writes like them; 
and yet your esteem for the gospel gives you 
no desire j nay prevents your reading such books 
as breathe the very spirit of the gospel? You 
tell your young scholar^ he must not content 
himself with barely understanding his authors^ 
but must be continually reading them all, as the 
only means of entering into their spirit^ and 
forming his own judgment according to them? 
Why then, must the Bible lie alone in your 
study? Is not the spirit of the holy followers 
of Christ, as good and necessary a means of 



A METHOD OP DAILY DEVOTIONS. 189 

A general charge. The aim of Christianity. 



entering into the spirit of the gospel as the read- 
ing of the ancients is of entering into the spirit 
of antiquity? Is the spirit of poetry only to be 
got by much reading of poets and orators? And 
is not the spirit of devotion to be got in the same 
way, by frequent reading the holy thoughts, and 
pious strains of devout men? 

It is much to be lamented, that numbers of 
scholars are chargeable with this folly; so negli- 
gent of improving their devotion, and so desir- 
ous of other poor accomplishments, as if they 
thought it a nobler talent, to be able to write an 
epigram in the style of Martial, than to live 
and think, and pray to God, in the spirit of St. 
Augustin. 

And yet to correct this temper, and fill a man 
with a quite contrary spirit, there seems to be 
no more required, than the bare belief of the 
truth of Christianity. If you should ask Mun- 
danus and Classicus, or any man of business or 
learning, whether piety is not the highest perfec- 
tion of man, or devotion the greatest attainment 
in the world, they must both answer in the affir- 
mative, or else give up the truth of the gospel. 

For as philosophy professes purely the search 
and inquiry after knowledge, so Christianity 
supposes, intends, desires, and aims at nothing 
else but the raising fallen man to a divine life, 
to such habits of holiness, such degrees of devo- 
tion, as may fit him to enter among the holy 
inhabitants of the kingdom of heaven. 



190 SERIOUS CALL, 



Chanting or singing in private devotions. 

He that does not believe this of Christianity 3 
maybe reckoned an infidel; and he that believes 
thus much, has faith enough to give him a right 
judgment of the value of things to support him 
in a sound mind, and enable him to conquer 
all the temptations which the world shall lay in 
his way. 



CHAP. XVI. 

OF CHANTING OR SINGING PSALMS IN OUR PRIVATE 
DEVOTIONS. OF THE EXCELLENCY AND BENEFIT OF 
THIS KIND OF DEVOTION. OF THE MEANS OF PER- 
FORMING IT IN THE BEST MANNER. 

I recommend not only as fit and proper to be 
done, but as such as cannot be neglected, with- 
out great prejudice to your devotions, that you 
begin all your prayers with a psalm. This is so 
right, is so beneficial to devotion, has so much 
effect upon our hearts, that it may be insisted 
upon as a common rule for all persons. 

1 do not mean that you should read over a 
psalm, but that you should chant or sing one of 
those psalms, which we commonly call the read- 
ing psalms. For singing is as much the proper 
use of a psalm, as devout supplication is the 
proper use of a form of prayer. And a psalin 
only read, is very much like a prayer that is 
only looked over. 



ON SINGING IN PRIVATE DEVOTION. 191 

Chanting. Difference between reading and singing. 

The method of chanting a psalm, such as is 
used in some churches, is practicable by all 
persons. The change of the voice in thus 
chanting of a psalm is so small and natural, that 
every body is able to do it, and is yet sufficient 
to raise and keep up the gladness of our hearts. 

There is nothing that so clears a way for your 
prayers, nothing that so disperses dulness of 
heart, nothing that so purifies the soul from poor 
and little passions, nothing that so opens heaven, 
or carries your heart so near it, as these songs of 
praise. They create a sense of delight in God, 
awaken holy desires, and teach you how to ask 
God to give. They kindle a holy flame; they 
turn your heart into an altar, your prayers into 
incense; and carry them as a sweet smelling 
savor to the throne of grace. 

The difference between singing and reading a 
psalm, will easily be understood, if you consider 
the difference between reading and singing a 
common song that you like. While you only 
read it, you only like it, and that is all; but as 
soon as you sing it, you enjoy it, feel it, it has 
got hold of you, your passions keep pace with it, 
and you feel the same spirit within you, that 
there seems to be in the words. 

If you were to tell a person who has such a 
song, that he need not sing it, that it was suffi- 
cient to peruse it, he would wonder what you 
mean; and would think you as absurd, as if you 
were to tell him, that he should only look at his 



192 SERIOUS CALL. 



Talent for sin ging. Talent for thinking. 

food, to see whether it was good, but need not 
eat it. A song of praise not sung, is very like 
any other good thing not made use of. 

You will perhaps say, that singing is a par- 
ticular talent, which belongs only to particular 
people, and that you have neither a voice nor 
ear for music. If you had said that singing is 
a general talent, and that people differ in that, as 
they do in all other things, you had said some- 
thing much truer. 

How vastly do people differ in the talent of 
thinking, which is not only common to all men, 
but seems to be the very essence of human na- 
ture ! How readily do some people reason upon 
every thing: and how hardly do others reason 
upon any thing ! How clearly do some people 
discourse upon the most abstruse matters, and 
how confusedly do others talk upon the plainest 
subjects ! But no one desires to be excused from 
thought, or reason, or discourse, because he has 
not these talents as some people have them. Yet 
it is full as just, for a person to think himself 
excused from thinking upon God, or reasoning 
about his duty to him, or discoursing about the 
means of salvation, because he has not these 
talents in a high degree, as it is for a person to 
think himself excused from singing the praises 
of God, because he has not a fine ear, or a 
musical voice. 

As it is speaking, and not graceful speak- 
ing, that is a required part of prayer; so it is 



ON SINGING IN PRIVATE DEVOTION. 193 

Fine singing. Singing for others. 

singing, and not artful fine singing, that is a 
required way of praising God. If a person was 
to forbear praying, because he had an odd tone 
in his voice; he would have as good an excuse 
as he has, who forbears from singing psalms, 
because he has but little management of his 
voice. And as a man's uttering his prayers, 
though in an odd tone, may yet sufficiently 
answer all the ends of his own devotion; so a 
man's singing of a psalm, though not in a very 
musical way, may sufficiently answer all the 
ends of rejoicing in and praising God. 

This objection might be of some weight, if you 
were desired to sing, to entertain other people; 
but is not to be admitted in the present case, 
where you are only required to sing the praises 
of God, as a part of your own private devotion. 
If a person who has a very ill voice, and a bad 
way of speaking, was desired to be the mouth 
for a congregation, it would be a very proper 
excuse for him to say that he had not a voice, or 
a way of speaking that was proper for prayer. 
But he would be very absurd, if for the same 
reason he should neglect his own private devo- 
tions. This is exactly the case of singing 
psalms; you may not have the talent of singing, 
so as to be able to entertain other people, and 
therefore it is reasonable to excuse yourself 
from it. But if for that reason you should 
excuse yourself from this way of praising God, 
you would be guilty of a great absurdity: be- 

17 



194 SERIOUS CALL. 



Singing compared with prayer. Deficiency of voice. 



cause singing is no more required for the music 
that is made by it, than prayer is required for 
the fine words that it contains; but as it is the 
natural and proper expression of a heart rejoic- 
ing in God. Our Savior and his apostles sung 
an hymn, but it may reasonably be supposed, 
that they rather rejoiced in God, than made fine 
music. 

Do but so live, that your heart may truly 
rejoice in God, that it may feel itself affected 
with the praises of God, and then you will find, 
that this state of your heart, will neither want 
a voice, nor ear, to find a tune for a psalm. 
Every one at some time or other, finds himself 
able to sing in some degree; there are some 
times and occasions of joy, that make all people 
ready to express their sense of it in some sort of 
harmony. The joy that they feel, forces them 
to let their voices have a part in it. He, there- 
fore, that says he wants a voice, or an ear, to 
sing a psalm, mistakes the case. He wants that 
spirit that really rejoices in God; the dulness is 
in his heart, and not in his ear; and when his 
heart feels a true joy in God, when it has a full 
relish of what is expressed in the psalm, he will 
find it very pleasant, to make the motions of his 
voice express the motions of his heart. 

Singing indeed, as it ie improved into an art, 
signifies the running of the voice through a 
certain compass of notes, and keeping time with 
a studied variety of changes, is not natural, nor 



ON SINGING IN PRIVATE DEVOTION. 195 

Scientific singing. Natural singing. 

the effect of any natural state of the mind. In 
this sense, it is not common to all people, any 
more than those antic and invented motions, 
which make fine dancing, are common to all 
people. But singing, as it signifies a motion of 
the voice suitable to the motions of the heart, 
and the changing of its tone according to the 
meaning of the words which we utter, is as nat- 
ural and common to all men, as it is to speak 
high when they threaten, or to speak low when 
they are dejected. 

All men therefore are singers, in the same 
manner as all men think, speak, laugh, and 
lament. For singing is no more an invention, 
than grief or joy are inventions. Every state 
of the heart naturally puts the body into some 
state that is suitable to it, and is proper to show 
it to other people. If a man is angry, or dis- 
dainful, no one need instruct him how to express 
these passions by his tones. The state of his 
heart disposes him to a proper use of his voice. 

Imagine to yourself, that you had been with 
Moses when he was led through the Sea; that 
you had seen the waters divide, and stand as a 
heap on both sides, till you had passed through, 
and then fall upon your enemies; do you think 
you should then have wanted a voice or an ear 
to have sung with Moses, " The Lord is my 
strength and my song, and he is become my sal- 
vation, 55 &c. ? Your own heart tells you, that 
all must have been singers upon that occasion. 



196 SERIOUS CALL. 



Singing the effect of joy. Joy the effect of singing. 

Let this therefore teach you that it is the heart 
that tunes a voice to sing the praises of God ; 
and that if you cannot sing these same words 
now with joy, it is because you are not so af- 
fected with the salvation of the world by Jesus 
Christ, as the Jews were, or you yourself would 
have been, with their deliverance at the Red Sea. 

Let us now consider another reason for this 
kind of devotion. As singing is a natural effect 
of joy in the heart, so it has also a natural power 
of rendering the heart joyful. 

The soul and body are so united, that they 
have each of them power over one another, 
in their actions. Certain thoughts and senti- 
ments in the soul, produce certain motions 
or actions in the body ; and on the other hand, 
certain motions and actions of the body, have 
the same power of raising such and such 
thoughts and sentiments in the soul. So that as 
singing is the natural effect of joy in the mind, 
so it is as truly a natural cause of raising joy 
in the mind. 

As devotion of the heart naturally breaks out 
into outward acts of prayer, so outward acts of 
prayer are natural means of raising the devotion 
of the heart. It is thus in all states and tempers 
of the mind ; as the inward state of the mind pro- 
duces outward actions suitable to it, so those out- 
ward actions have the like power of raising an 
inward state of mind suitable to them. As anger 
produces angry words so angry words increase 



ON SINGING IN PRIVATE DEVOTION. 19? 

Singing compared with prayer. Union of soul and body. 

If therefore you would know the reason and 
necessity of singing psalms* you must Gonsider 
the reason and necessity of praising and re- 
joicing in God; because singing psalms is as 
much the true exercise and support of the spirit 
of thanksgiving, as prayer is the true exercise 
and support of the spirit of devotion. And you 
may as well think, that you can be devout as you 
ought, without the use of prayer, as that you can 
rejoice in God as you ought, without the practice 
of singing psalms. Because this singing is as 
much the natural language of praise and thanks- 
giving, as prayer is the natural language of 
devotion. 

The union of soul and body is not a mixture 
of their substances, as we see bodies united and 
mixed together, but consists solely in the mutual 
power that they have of acting upon one another. 

It is the sole will of God that is the reason and 
cause of all the powers and effects which you see 
in the world. The sun gives light and heat, not 
because it has any natural power of so doing; 
but merely because it is the will of God. The 
eye is the organ or instrument of seeing^ not 
because the skins, coats, and humors of the 
eye, have a natural power of giving sight. The 
ears are the organs or instruments of hearing, 
not because the make of the ear has any natural 
power over sounds, but merely because it is the 
will of God, that seeing and hearing should be 
thus received. So it is the sole will of God, and 

17* 



198 SERIOUS CALL, 



The effects of the union of soul and body. 

not the nature of a human soul or body, that is the 
cause of this union betwixt the soul and the body. 

If you rightly apprehend this short account of 
the union of the soul and body, you will see a 
great deal into the reason and necessity of all the 
outward parts of religion. This union of our 
souls and bodies is the reason both why we have 
so little and so much power over ourselves. It 
is owing to this union that we have so little pow- 
er over our souls; for as we cannot prevent the 
effects of external objects upon our bodies; as we 
cannot command outward causes; so we cannot 
always command the inward state of our minds. 
Because, as outward objects act upon our bodies 
without our leave, so our bodies act upon our 
minds by the laws of the union of the soul and 
the body. Thus you see it is owing to this union, 
that we have so little power over ourselves. 

On the other hand, it is owing to this union, 
that we have so much power over ourselves. 
For as our souls in a great measure depend upon 
our bodies; and as we have great pow r r over our 
bodies; as we command our outward actions, and 
oblige ourselves to such habits of life, as natural- 
ly produce habits in the soul; as we can mortify 
our bodies, and remove ourselves from objects 
that inflame our passions; so, we have a great 
power over the state of our souls. Again, as 
we are masters of our outward actions; as we 
can force ourselves to outward acts of reading, 
praying, singing, and the like; and as all these 



OK SINGING IN PRIVATE DEVOTION. 199 

Too many outward means. Quietism. 

bodily actions have an effect upon the soul, as 
they naturally tend to form such and such tem- 
pers in our hearts; so by being masters of these 
outward, bodily actions, we have great power 
over the state of the heart. 

Now from this you may see the necessity and 
benefit of singing psalms, and of all the outward 
acts of religion. For if the body has so much 
power over the soul, it is certain that all such 
bodily actions as affect the soul,, are of great 
weight in religion. Not as if there was any true 
worship or piety in the actions themselves, but 
because they are proper to raise and support that 
spirit, which is the true worship of God. 

This doctrine may be easily carried too far; 
for by calling in too many outward means of 
worship, it may degenerate into superstition. 
On the other hand, some have fallen into the 
contrary extreme. For because religion is in 
the heart, some have pursued that notion so far 5 
as to renounce vocal prayer, and other outward 
acts of worship; and have resolved all religion 
into a quietism, or mystic intercourse with God 
in silence. These extremes are equally pre- 
judicial to true religion. I neither encourage 
quietism, by placing religion in the heart; nor 
superstition, by showing the benefit of outward 
acts of worship. 

Since we are neither all soul, nor all body; 
seeing none of our actions are either separately 
of the soul, or separately of the body; seeing we 



800 SERIOTJS CALL* 



Who is the greatest saint. Short way to happiness. 

have no habits but such as are produced by the 
actions both of our souls and bodies, it is certain, 
that if we would arrive at habits of devotion, or 
delight in God, we must not only meditate, and 
exercise our souls, but we must practise our 
bodies to all such outward actions, as are con- 
formable to these inward tempers. 

I have been the longer upon this head, be- 
cause of its great importance* For there is no 
state of mind so truly perfect as that of thank- 
fulness to God; and consequently nothing is of 
more importance in religion, than that which 
exercises and improves this habit of mind. 

Would you know who is the greatest saint? 
It is not he who prays most, or fasts most, who 
gives most alms, or is most eminent for temper- 
ance, chastity, or justice; but he who is always 
thankful to God, who wills every thing that God 
willeth, receives every thing as an instance of 
God's goodness, and has a heart always ready 
to praise God for it. 

All prayer, fastings, repentance, meditation, 
retirement, and ordinances, are but so many 
means to render the soul thus conformable to 
the will of God, and to fill it with praise for 
every thing. This is the perfection of all vir- 
tues; and all virtues that do not tend to it, or 
proceed from it, are but so many false orna- 
ments of a soul not converted to God. 

The shortest, surest way to all happiness, and 
all perfection, is to make it a rule to yourself, to 



ON SINGING IN PRIVATE DEVOTION. 201 

Singing not restricted to time or place. 

praise God for every thing. For it is certain, 
that whatever seeming calamity happens to you, 
if you thank and praise God for it, you turn it 
into a blessing. Could you therefore work mir- 
acles, you could do no more for yourself, than 
by this thankful spirit, for it turns all that it 
touches into happiness. 

Although this be the highest temper you can 
aim at, and the noblest sacrifice that the greatest 
saint can offer to God, yet it is not tied to any 
time, place, or occasion, but is always in your 
power, and may be the exercise of every day. 
The common events of every day are sufficient 
to discover and exercise this temper, and may 
plainly show you how far you are governed in 
all your actions by this thankful spirit. For 
this reason I exhort you to this method in your 
devotion, that every day may be made a day of 
thanksgiving, and that the spirit of discontent 
may be unable to enter into the heart. 

It may perhaps after all be objected, that al- 
though the great benefit, and excellent effects of 
this practice are very apparent, yet it seems not 
altogether so fit for private devotions; since it 
can hardly be performed without making our 
devotions public to other people, and seems also 
liable to the charge of sounding a trumpet at our 
prayers. 

It is therefore answered, 1. That great num- 
bers of people have it in their power to be as 
private as they please; such persons therefore 



202 SERIOUS CALL. 



The danger of being overheard. 



are excluded from this excuse, which however it 
may be so to others, is none to them. There- 
fore let such take the benefit of this excellent 
devotion. 

2. Numbers of people are by the necessity of 
their state, as servants, apprentices, prisoners, 
and families in small houses, forced to be contin- 
ually in the presence or sight of somebody or 
other. Are such persons to neglect prayer, 
because they cannot pray without being seen? 
Are they not rather obliged to be more exact in 
them, that others may not be witnesses of their 
neglect, and so corrupted by their example ? 

Now what is here said of devotion, may surely 
be said of chanting a psalm, which is only a part 
of devotion. The rule is this; do not pray that 
you may be seen of men, but if your confine- 
ment obliges you to be always in the sight of 
others, be more afraid of being seen to neglect, 
than of being seen to have recourse to prayer. 

3. Either people can use such privacy in this 
practice, as to have no hearers, or they cannot. 
If they can, then this objection vanishes as to 
them: and if they cannot, they should consider 
their confinement, and the necessities of their 
state, as the confinement of a prison; and then 
they have an excellent pattern to follow. They 
may imitate St. Paul and Silas, who sang praises 
to God in prison, though we are expressly told 
that the prisoners heard them. They therefore 
did not refrain from this kind of devotion for 



ON SINGING IN PRIVATE DEVOTION. 203 

The difference between having witnesses and seeking them. 

fear of being heard by others. If therefore any 
one is in the same necessity, either in prison or 
out of prison, what can he do better, than to 
follow this example ? 

I cannot pass by this place of scripture, with- 
out desiring the pious reader to observe how 
strongly we are here called upon to this use of 
psalms, and what a mighty recommendation of 
it, the practice of these two great saints is. In 
their great distress, in prison, in chains, under 
the soreness of stripes, in the horror of night, 
they sang praises to God. And shall we, after 
this, need any exhortation to this holy practice ? 
Shall we let the day pass without such thanks- 
givings as they would not neglect in the night? 
Shall a prison, chains and darkness, furnish 
them with songs of praise, and shall we have no 
singings in our closets? 

4. The privacy of devotion is not destroyed 
by our having, but by our seeking witnesses. 
If therefore nobody hears you but those you 
cannot separate yourself from, you are as 
much in secret, and your Father who seeth in 
secret, will as truly reward your secrecy, as if 
you was seen by him alone. 

5. Private devotion, as it is opposed to 
public, does not suppose that no one is to have 
any witness of it. For husbands and wives, 
brothers and sisters, parents and children, mas- 
ters and servants, tutors and pupils, are to be 
witnesses to one another, of such devotion as 



204 SERIOUS CALL. 



Fasting. Cornelius. 

may truly and properly be called private. It is 
far from being a duty to conceal such devotion 
from such near relations. 

Our Lord commands us, when we fast, to 
"anoint our heads, and wash our faces, that we 
appear not unto men to fast, but unto our Father 
who is in secret." But this only means, that we 
must not make ostentation of our fasting. For if 
no one was to fast in private, or could be said to 
fast in private, but he who had no witnesses of 
it, no one could keep a private fast, but he who 
lived by himself: for every family must know 
who fasts in it. Therefore, the privacy of fast- 
ing does not suppose such a privacy as excludes 
every body from knowing it, but such a privacy 
as does not seek to be known abroad. 

Cornelius, the devout centurion, of whom it 
is said, that he "gave much alms, and prayed 
to God alway," saith unto Peter, "Four days 
ago, I was fasting until this hour." Acts x. 2. 
Now that this fasting was sufficiently private and 
acceptable to God, appears from the vision of 
an angel, with which the holy man was blessed 
at that time. 

As therefore the privacy or excellency of fast- 
ing is not destroyed by being known to some 
particular persons, neither would the privacy or 
excellency of your devotions be hurt, though by 
chanting a psalm you should be heard by some 
of your family. 

The whole of the matter is this. A great part 



HUMILITY. 205 



Some cannot be private. Value of Humility. 

of the world can be as private as they please, 
therefore let them use this excellent devotion 
between God and themselves. 

Another great part of the world must and 
ought to have witnesses of several of their de- 
votions; let them therefore not neglect the use 
of a psalm at such times as it ought to be 
known to those with whom they live, that they 
do not neglect their prayers. For surely, there 
can be no harm in being known to be singing a 
psalm, at such times as it ought to be known 
that you are at your prayers. 

And if at other times you desire to be in such 
secrecy at your devotions, as to have nobody 
suspect it, and for that reason forbear your psalm; 
I have nothing to object against it. 



CHAP. XVII. 



HUMILITY. 



I have in the last chapter laid before you 
the excellency of praise and thanksgiving, and 
recommended that as the subject of your first 
devotions in the morning. 

And because an humble state of soul is the 
very state of religion, because humility is the 
life and soul of piety, the foundation and support 
of every virtue and good work, the best guard 
and security of all holy affections; I shall re- 
1S 



206 SERIOUS CALL. 



Humility absolutely essential. Pride grows upon virtues. 

commend humility to you, as highly proper to be 
made the subject of your devotions, at the next 
early season of prayer; earnestly desiring you 
to think no day likely to end well, in which you 
have not early put yourself in this posture of 
humility, and called upon God to carry you 
through the day in the exercise of a meek and 
lowly spirit. 

This virtue is so essential to the right state of 
our souls, that there is no pretending to a reason- 
able or pious life without it. We may as well 
think to see without eyes, or to live without 
breath, as to live in the spirit of religion, without 
the spirit of humility. And although it is thus 
the soul and essence of all religious duties, yet 
is it, generally speaking, the least understood, 
the least regarded, the least intended, the least 
desired and sought after, of all other virtues, 
among all sorts of Christians. 

No people have more occasion to be afraid of 
the approaches of pride, than those who have 
made some advances in a pious life. For pride 
can grow as well upon our virtues as our vices, 
and steals upon us on all occasions. Every good 
thought that we have, every good action that we 
do, lays us open to pride, and exposes us to the 
assaults of vanity and self-satisfaction. 

Humility does not consist in having a worse 
opinion of ourselves than we deserve, or in 
abasing ourselves lower than we really are. But 
as all virtue is founded in truth, so humility is 



HUMILITY. 207 



Our obsolute weakness. 



founded in a true and just sense of our weakness, 
misery, and sin. He that rightly feels and lives 
in this sense of his condition, lives in humility. 

1. The weakness of our state appears from 
our inability to do any thing of ourselves. In 
our natural state we are entirely without any 
power; we are indeed active beings, but can only 
act by a power, that is every moment lent us 
from God. We have no more power of our own 
to move a hand or stir a foot, than to move the 
sun, or stop the clouds. When we speak a 
word, we feel no more power in ourselves to do 
it, than we feel ourselves able to raise the dead. 
For we act no more within our own power, or 
by our own strength, when we speak a word, or 
make a sound, than the apostles acted within 
their own power, or by their own strength, when 
a word from their mouth cast out devils, and 
cured diseases. As it was solely the power of 
God that enabled them to speak to such purposes, 
so it is solely the power of God that enables us 
to speak at all. 

We indeed find that we can speak, as we find 
that we are alive; but the actual exercise of 
speaking is no more in our own power, than the 
actual enjoyment of life. 

Since we neither are, nor can do any thing of 
ourselves, to be proud of any thing that we are, 
or of any thing that we can do, and to ascribe 
glory to ourselves for these things, as our own 
ornaments, has the guilt both of stealing and 



208 SERIOUS CALL. 



Our exceeding folly and sin. 



lying. It has the guilt of stealing, as it gives to 
ourselves those things which only belong to God. 
It has the guilt of lying, as it is the denying the 
truth of our state, and pretending to be some- 
thing that we are not. 

2. Another argument for humility, is founded 
in the misery of our condition. 

Now the misery of our condition is, that we 
use the powers of our nature, to the torment and 
vexation of ourselves, and our fellow creatures. 

God Almighty has entrusted us with the use 
of reason, and we use it to the disorder and cor- 
ruption of our nature. We reason ourselves into 
all kinds of folly and misery, and make our lives 
the sport of foolish and extravagant passions: 
seeking after imaginary happiness in all kinds of 
shapes, creating to ourselves a thousand wants, 
amusing our hearts with false hopes and fears, 
using the world worse than irrational animals, 
envying, vexing and tormenting one another with 
restless passions, and unreasonable contentions. 

Let any man but look back upon his own life, 
and see what use he has made of his reason, how 
little he has consulted it, and how less he has 
followed it — what foolish passions, what vain 
thoughts, what needless labors, what extravagant 
projects, have taken up the greatest part of his 
life — -how foolish he has been in his words and 
conversation — how seldom he has done well with 
judgment, and how often he has been kept from 
doing ill by accident— how seldom he has been 



HUMILITY. 209 



Consciousness of shame. Dread of discovery. 

able to please himself, and how often he has 
displeased others — how often he has changed his 
counsels, hated what he loved, and loved what 
he hated — how often he has been enraged and 
transported at trifles, pleased and displeased with 
the very same things, and constantly changing 
from one vanity to another; and he will see rea- 
son enough to confess, that pride was not made 
for man. Let him but consider, that if the world 
knew all that of him, which he knows of himself; 
if they saw what vanity and passions govern 
him, and what secret tempers sully and corrupt 
his best actions, he would have no more pretence 
to be honored and admired for his goodness and 
wisdom, than a rotten and distempered body to 
be loved and admired for its beauty and come- 
liness. 

This is so true, and so known to the hearts of 
most people, that nothing would appear more 
dreadful to them, than to have their hearts thus 
fully discovered to the eyes of all beholders. 
Perhaps there are very few people in the world, 
who would not rather choose to die, than to have 
all their secret follies, the errors of their judg- 
ments, the vanity of their minds, the falseness of 
their pretences, the frequency of their vain and 
disorderly passions, their uneasiness, hatreds, en- 
vies, and vexations, made known unto the world. 

And shall pride be entertained in a heart thus 
conscious of its own miserable behavior? Shall 
a creature, that could not support himself under 
18* 



210 SERIOUS CALL. 



The monstrous nature of sin. 



the shame of being known to the world in his 
real state — shall such a creature, because his 
shame is only known to God, to holy angels, and 
his own conscience; shall he, in the sight of God 
and holy angels, dare to be vain and proud of 
himself? 

3. In the shame and guilt of sin, we find still 
greater reason for humility. 

No creature that had lived in innocence, would 
thereby have any pretence for self-honor and 
esteem; because as a creature, all that it is, or 
has, or does, is from God, and therefore the hon- 
or of all that belongs to it, is only due to God. 
But if a creature that is a sinner, and under the 
displeasure of the great Governor of all the 
world, and deserving nothing from him, but 
pains and punishments for the shameful abuse 
of his powers: if such a creature pretends to 
self-glory for any thing that he is or does, he can 
only be said to glory in his shame. 

Now how monstrous and shameful the nature 
of sin is, is sufficiently apparent from that great 
atonement that is necessary to cleanse us from 
the guilt of it. Nothing less has been required 
to take away the guilt of our sins, than the suf- 
ferings and death of the Son of God. Had he 
not taken our nature upon him, our nature had 
been for ever separated from God, and incapable 
of ever appearing before him. 

And is there any room for pride or self-glory, 
while we are partakers of such a nature as this ? 



HUMILITY. 211 



Pride an offence to reason. A glance at heaven. 

Have our sins rendered us so abominable and 
odious to Him that made us, that He could not so 
much as receive our prayers, or admit our repent* 
ance, till the Son of God made himself man, and 
became a suffering advocate for our whole race; 
and can we in this state pretend to high thoughts 
of ourselves? Shall we presume to take delight 
in our own worth, who are not worthy so much 
as to ask pardon for our sins, without the media- 
tion and intercession of the Son of God? 

Thus deep is the foundation of humility laid, 
in the deplorable circumstances of our condition; 
which shows that it is as great an offence against 
truth and reason, for a man in this state of 
things to lay claim to any degree of glory 5 as to 
pretend to the honor of creating himself. If a 
man will boast of any thing as his own, he must 
boast of his misery and sin; for nothing is his 
own but this. 

Turn your eyes towards heaven, and fancy 
that you see what is doing there; that you see 
cherubim and seraphim, and all the glorious in- 
habitants of that place, all united in one work ; 
not seeking glory from one another, not laboring 
their own advancement, not contemplating their 
own perfections, not singing their own praises, 
not valuing themselves, and despising others, 
but all employed in one and the same work; all 
happy in one and the same joy; "casting down 
their crowns before the throne of God, giving 
glory, and honor, and power to him alone. 5 ' Then 



£l'£ SEftlOCS CALL* 



Pride found only on earth. PracticaT humifrt}'. 

turn your eyes to the fallen world, and consider 
how unreasonable and odious it must be 5 for such 
poor worms, such miserable sinners, to take de- 
light in their own fancied glories, while the high- 
est and most glorious sons of heaven, seek for 
no other greatness, and honor, but that of ascrib- 
ing all honor and greatness, and glory to God 
alone ?' 

Pride is the disorder of the fallen world only; 
it has no place among other beings; it can only 
subsist where ignorance and sensuality, lies and 
falsehood, lusts and impurity reign. 

These are the reflections which 30U are often 
to meditate upon, that you may thereby be dis- 
posed to walk before God and man in such a 
spirit of humility, as becomes the weak, misera- 
ble, sinful state of all who are descended from 
fallen Adam* 

When you have by such general reflections as 
these, convinced your mind of the reasonableness 
of humility, you must not content yourself with 
this, as if you was therefore humbled, because 
your mind acknowledges the reasonableness of 
humility, and declares against pride. But you 
must immediately enter yourself into the prac- 
tice of this virtue, like a young beginner, that has 
all of it to learn, and can learn but little at a time, 
and that with great difficulty. Consider, that you 
have not only this virtue to learn, but that you 
must be content, to proceed as a learner all your 
time, endeavoring after greater degrees of it, and 



HUMILITY. 218 



Caecus. His hatred of pride. 

practising every day acts of humility, as you 
every day practise acts of devotion. 

You would not imagine yourself to be devout, 
because in your judgment you approved of 
prayer, and often declared your mind in favor of 
devotion. Yet how many people imagine them- 
selves humble enough for no other reason, but 
because they often commend humility, and make 
vehement declarations against pride? 

Ccecus is a rich man, of good birth, and very 
fine parts, but he is fond of dress, curious in the 
smallest matters that can add any ornament to 
his person. He is haughty to his inferiors, is 
very full of every thing that he says or does, and 
never imagines it possible for such a judgment 
as his to be mistaken. He can hear no contra- 
diction, and discovers the weakness of your un- 
derstanding, as soon as you oppose him. He 
changes every thing in his house, his habit, and 
his equipage, as often as any thing more ele- 
gant comes in his way. Caecus would have been 
very religious, but that he always thought he 
was so. 

There is nothing so odious to Csecus as a 
proud man; and the misfortune is, that in this 
he is so very quicksighted, that he discovers 
vanity in almost every body- 
On the other hand, he is exceeding fond of 
humble and modest persons. Humility, says he, 
is so amiable a quality, that it forces our esteem 
wherever we meet with it. There is no possi- 



214 SERIOUS CALL. 



Self-deception. A common rase. 

bility of despising the meanest person that has it, 
or of esteeming the greatest man that wants it. 

Csecus no more suspects himself to be proud 9 
than he suspects his want of sense. And the 
reason of it is, because he always finds himself 
in love with humility, and enraged at pride. 

It is very true, Csecus, you speak sincerely 
when you say you love humility, and abhor 
pride, but then take this along with you, that 
you only love humility, and hate pride, in other 
people. You never in your Jife thought of any 
other humility, or of any other pride, than that 
which you have seen in others* 

The case of Csecus is a common case ; many 
people live in all the instances of pride, and 
indulge every vanity that can enter into their 
minds, and yet never suspect themselves to be 
governed by pride and vanity, because they know 
how much they dislike proud people, and how 
mightily they are pleased with the humble and 
modest, wherever they find them. All their 
speeches in favor of humility, and all their rail- 
ings against pride, are looked upon as so- many 
true exercises, and effects of their own humble 
spirit. Whereas in truth, these are so far from 
being proper acts, or proofs of humility, that 
they are great arguments of the want of it. 

The fuller of pride any one is himself, the 
more impatient will he be at the smallest instan- 
ces of it in other people. And the less humility 
any one has in his own mind, the more will he 



HUMILITY. 215 



Admiring humility is not sufficient. 



demand, and be delighted with it in other people, 
You must therefore reckon yourself only so far 
humble, as you impose every instance of humil- 
ity upon yourself, and never call for it in other 
people. 

Now in order to do this, j t ou need only con- 
sider, that pride and humility signify nothing to 
you, but so far as they are your own; that they 
do you neither good nor harm, but as they are 
the tempers of your own heart. 

The loving of humility therefore is of no ad- 
vantage to you, but lt) far as you love to see all 
your own thoughts, words and actions governed 
by it. And the hating of pride does you no good, 
but so far as you hate to harbor any degree of 
it in your own heart. 

Now in order to set out well in the practice of 
humility, you must take it for granted, that you 
have all your life been more or less infected with 
pride. You should believe also, that you have rea- 
son to suspect its approaches in all your actions. 

This is what most people, especially new be- 
ginners in a pious life, may with great truth think 
of themselves. For there is no one vice that is 
more deeply rooted in our nature, or that receives 
such constant nourishment from almost every 
thing that we think or do. There is hardly any 
thing in the world that we want or use, or any 
action or duty of life, but pride finds some means 
or other to take hold of it. So that at what time 
soever we begin to offer ourselves to God, we 



£!(> SERIOUS CALL. 



Insidiousness of pride. Temper of the wor/d. 

can hardly be sorer of any thing, than that we 
have a great deal of pride to repent of. 

If therefore you find it disagreeable to your 
mind to entertain this opinion of yourself, and 
that you cannot put yourself among those that 
want to be cured of pride, you may be as sure^ 
as if an angel from heaven had told you, that 
you have not only much, but all your humility 
to seek* 



CHAP. XVIII. 

THE PRACTICE OF HUMILITY IS MADE DIFFICULT BY 
THE GENERAL SPIRIT AND TEMPER OF THE WORLD. 

Every person, when he first applies himself 
to the exercise of humility* must consider him- 
self as a learner, that is, to learn something that 
is contrary to former tempers, and habits of mind 5 
and which can only be got by daily and constant 
practice. He has not only as much to do, as he 
that has some new art or science to learn ; but he 
has also a great deal to unlearn. He is to lay 
aside his own spirit, which has been a long while 
fixing and forming itself; he must forget, and 
depart from abundance of passions and opinions, 
which the fashion and spirit of the world has 
made natural to him. 

He must lay aside his own spirit; because, as 
we are born in sin, so in pride, which is as nat- 



I 



DIFFICULTIES OF HUMILITY. 217 

Opinions to be relinquished. Scripture. 

ural to us as self love, and continually springs 
from it. As this is one reason why Christianity 
is so often represented as a new birth, and a new 
spirit. He must lay aside the opinions and pas- 
sions which he has received from the world, be- 
cause the fashion of the world, by which we have 
been carried away, as in a torrent, is in many 
respects contrary to humility. 

According to the spirit and vogue of this world, 
there are many things that pass for great, honor- 
able, and desirable, which yet are so far from 
being so, that the true greatness and honor of 
our nature consists in not desiring them. 

To abound in wealth, to have fine houses and 
rich clothes, to be attended with splendor, to be 
beautiful, to have titles of dignity, to be above 
our fellow creatures, to command the obeisance 
of others, to be looked on with admiration, to 
overcome our enemies with power, to live highly 
and magnificently, to eat and drink, and delight 
ourselves, these are the great, the honorable, the 
desirable things, to which the spirit of the world 
turns the eyes of all people. And many a man 
is afraid of standing still, and not engaging in 
the pursuit of these things, lest the same world 
should take him for a fool. 

" If any man hath not the Spirit of Christ, he 
is none of his." "Whosoever is born of God, 
overcometh the world." " Set your affections 
on things above, and not on things on the earth; 
for ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ 
*19 



I 



220 SERIOUS CALL, 



An admission. An argument. 

one seems to know and confess, that the general 
temper and spirit of the world, is nothing else 
but humor, folly and extravagance. Who will 
not own, that the wisdom of philosophy, and the 
piety of religion, was always confined to a small 
number? And is not this expressly owning and 
confessing, that the common spirit and temper 
of the world, is neither according to the wisdom 
of philosophy, nor the piety of religion ? 

The world therefore seems enough condemned 
even by itself, to make it very easy for a think- 
ing man to be of the same judgment. 

I hope, therefore, you will not think it a hard 
saying, that in order to be humble, you must 
withdraw your obedience from the common 
spirit which gives laws to fops and coquettes, 
and form your judgments according to the wis- 
dom of philosophy and the piety of religion. 
Who should be afraid of making such a change 
as this? 

To lessen your fear and regard to the opinion 
of the world, think how soon the world will dis- 
regard you, and have no more thought or concern 
about you, than about the poorest animal that 
died in a ditch. Your friends, if they can, may 
bury you with some distinction, and set up a 
monument to let posterity see that your dust lies 
under such a stone; and when that is done, all 
is done. Your place is filled up by another, the 
world is just in the same state it was, you are 
blotted out of its sight, and as much forgotten 



DIFFICULTIES OF HUMILITY. 221 

•» —— — _____ 

The most admired are soon forgotten. 

by the world as if you had never belonged 
to it. 

Think upon the rich, the great, and the learn- 
ed persons, that have made great figures, and 
been high in the esteem of the world; many of 
them died in your time, and yet they are sunk 
and lost, and gone, and as much disregarded by 
the world, as if they had been only so many 
bubbles of water. Think again, how many poor 
souls see heaven lost, and lie now expecting a 
miserable eternity, for their service and homage 
to a world, that thinks itself every whit as well 
without them, and is just as merry as it was 
when they were in it. 

Is it therefore worth your while to lose the 
smallest degree of virtue, for the sake of pleasing 
so bad a master, and so false a friend? Is it 
worth your while to bow your knee to an idol, 
that so soon will have neither eyes, nor ears, nor 
a heart to regard you; instead of serving the 
great, and holy, and mighty God, that will make 
all his servants partakers of his own eternity? 
Will you let the fear of a false world, that has 
no love for you, keep you from the fear of that 
God, who has only created you, that he may love 
and bless you to all eternity? 

Once more, you must consider what behavior 
the profession of Christianity requires of you, 
with regard to the world : this is plainly deliver- 
ed in these words; "Who gave himself for our 
sins, that he might deliver us from this present 

19* 



220 SERIOUS CALL. 



An admission. An argument. 

one seems to know and confess, that the general 
temper and spirit of the world, is nothing else 
but humor, folly and extravagance. Who will 
not own, that the wisdom of philosophy, and the 
piety of religion, was always confined to a small 
number? And is not this expressly owning and 
confessing, that the common spirit and temper 
of the world, is neither according to the wisdom 
of philosophy, nor the piety of religion ? 

The world therefore seems enough condemned 
even by itself, to make it very easy for a think- 
ing man to be of the same judgment. 

I hope, therefore, you will not think it a hard 
saying, that in order to be humble, you must 
withdraw your obedience from the common 
spirit which gives laws to fops and coquettes, 
and form your judgments according to the wis- 
dom of philosophy and the piety of religion. 
Who should be afraid of making such a change 
as this ? 

To lessen your fear and regard to the opinion 
of the world, think how soon the world will dis- 
regard you, and have no more thought or concern 
about you, than about the poorest animal that 
died in a ditch. Your friends, if they can, may 
bury you with some distinction, and set up a 
monument to let posterity see that your dust lies 
under such a stone; and when that is done, all 
is done. Your place is filled up by another, the 
world is just in the same state it was, you are 
blotted out of its sight, and as much forgotten 



DIFFICULTIES OF HUMILITY. 221 

■ m — - _________ 

The most admired are soon forgotten. 

by the world as if you had never belonged 
to it. 

Think upon the rich, the great, and the learn- 
ed persons, that have made great figures, and 
been high in the esteem of the world; many of 
them died in your time, and yet they are sunk 
and lost, and gone, and as much disregarded by 
the world, as if they had been only so many 
bubbles of water. Think again, how many poor 
souls see heaven lost, and lie now expecting a 
miserable eternity, for their service and homage 
to a world, that thinks itself every whit as well 
without them, and is just as merry as it was 
when they were in it. 

Is it therefore worth your while to lose the 
smallest degree of virtue, for the sake of pleasing 
so bad a master, and so false a friend? Is it 
worth your while to bow your knee to an idol, 
that so soon will have neither eyes, nor ears, nor 
a heart to regard you; instead of serving the 
great, and holy, and mighty God, that will make 
all his servants partakers of his own eternity? 
Will you let the fear of a false world, that has 
no love for you, keep you from the fear of that 
God, who has only created you, that he may love 
and bless you to all eternity? 

Once more, you must consider what behavior 
the profession of Christianity requires of you, 
with regard to the world: this is plainly deliver- 
ed in these words; "Who gave himself for our 
sins, that he might deliver us from this present 

19* 



222 SERIOUS CALL, 



Christians must overcome the world. 



evil world/ 5 Christianity, therefore, implies a 
deliverance from this world 3 and he that profes- 
ses it, professes to live contrary to every thing, 
and every temper, that is peculiar to this evil 
world. 

John declares this opposition to the world in 
this manner; " They are of the world, therefore 
speak they of the worlds and the world heareth 
them. We are of God." This is the description 
of the followers of Christ; and it is proof enough 
that no people are to be reckoned Christians in 
reality, who in their hearts and tempers belong 
to this world. " We know," says the same 
apostle, " that we are of God, and the whole 
world lieth in wickedness." Christians therefore 
can no farther know that they are of God, than 
so far as they know that they are not of the 
world; that is, that they do not live according to 
the ways and spirit of the world. For all the 
ways, maxims, politics, and tempers of the world, 
lie in wickedness. He is only of God, or born 
of God in Christ Jesus, who has overcome this 
world, that is, who has chose to live by faith, and 
govern his actions by the principles of a wisdom 
revealed from God by Christ Jesus. 

Paul takes it for a certainty so well known to 
Christians, that they are no longer to be con- 
sidered as living in this world, that he argues 
from it, as from an undeniable principle, con- 
cerning the abolishing the rites of the Jewish 
law. " Wherefore if ye be dead with Christ 



DIFFICULTIES OF HUMILITY. 22S 

Softening comments. The spirit of Christ. 

from the rudiments of the world, why, as though 
living in the world, are ye subject to ordinances? 75 
Our blessed Lord himself has fully determined 
this point in these words: " They are not of this 
world, as I am not of this world." This is the 
state of Christianity with regard to this world. 
If you are not thus out of, and contrary to the 
world, you want the distinguishing mark of 
Christianity. You do not belong to Christ, but 
by being out of the world as he was out of it. 

We may deceive ourselves, if we please, with 
vain and softening comments upon these words, 
but they are and will be understood in their first 
simplicity and plainness, by every one that reads 
them in the same spirit that our blessed Lord 
spoke them. And to understand them in any 
lower, less significant meaning, is to let carnal 
wisdom explain away that doctrine, by which 
itself was to be destroyed. 

The state of Christianity implies nothing else 
but an entire, absolute conformity to that spirit 
which Christ showed in the mysterious sacrifice 
of himself upon the cross. Every man, there- 
fore, is only so far a Christian as he partakes of 
this spirit of Christ. It was this that made 
Paul so passionately express himself, " God 
forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of 
our Lord Jesus Christ:" but why does he glory? 
Is it because Christ had suffered in his stead, and 
had excused him from suffering? No, by no 
means. But it was because his Christian pro- 



224 SERIOUS CALL. 



The cross of Christ. Conformity to Christ. 

fession had called him to the honor of suffering 
with Christ, and of dying to the world under 
reproach and contempt, as he had done upon the 
cross. For he immediately adds, " by whom the 
world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world." 
This you see was the reason of his glorying in 
the cross of Christ, because he had called him 
to a like state of death and crucifixion to the 
world. 

Thus was the cross of Christ in St. Paul's 
days, the glory of Christians ; not as it signified 
their not being ashamed to own a Master that 
was crucified, but as it signified their glorying in 
a religion, which was nothing else but a doctrine 
of the cross, that called them to the same suffer- 
ing spirit, the same sacrifice of themselves, the 
same renunciation of the world, the same humil- 
ity and meekness, the same patient bearing of 
injuries, reproaches, and contempts, and the 
same dying to all the greatness, honors, and 
happiness of the world, which Christ showed 
upon the cross. 

The necessity of conformity to all that Christ 
did, and suffered upon our account, is very plain 
from the whole tenor of Scripture. 

1. As to his sufferings, this is the only condition 
of our being saved by them, if "we suffer with 
him, we shall also reign with him." 

2. As to his crucifixion. " Knowing this, that 
our old man is crucified with him," &c. Here 
you see that unless our old man be really 



DIFFICULTIES OF HUMILITY. 225 

Dying with Uhrist. JSepatation enjoined. 

crucified with him, the cross of Christ will profit 
us nothing. 

3. As to the death of Christ, the condition is 
this; "If we be dead with Christ, we believe 
that we shall also live with him." If therefore 
Christ be dead alone — if we be not dead with 
him, we are sure, from this Scripture, that we 
shall not live with him. 

4. As to the resurrection of Christ, the Scrip- 
ture shovveth us how we are to partake of the 
benefit of it: "If ye be risen with Christ, seek 
those things which are above, where Christ 
sitteth on the right hand of God." 

Jesus said of his disciples, and in them of all 
true believers, " They are not of this world, as 
I am not of this world." Because all true be- 
lievers conforming to the sufferings, crucifixion, 
death, and resurrection of Christ, live no longer 
after the spirit and temper of this world, but 
their life is hid with Christ in God. This is the 
state of separation from the world, to which all 
orders of Christians are called. They must so 
renounce all worldly tempers, and be so govern- 
ed by the things of another life, as to show, that 
they are truly and really crucified, dead, and 
risen, with Christ. And it is as necessary for all 
Christians to conform to this great change of 
spirit, and be thus in Christ new creatures, as it 
was necessary that Christ should suffer, die, and 
rise again for our salvation. 

How high the Christian life is placed above 



226 SERIOUS CALL. 



The new creature. The world's hatred. 

the ways of this world, is wonderfully described 
by Paul in these words: "Wherefore hence- 
forth know we no man after the flesh; yea 
though we have known Christ after the flesh; 
yet henceforth we know him no more. There- 
fore if any man be in Christ, he is a new crea- 
ture: old things are passed away; behold all 
things are become new." He that feels the 
force and spirit of these words, can hardly bear 
any human interpretation of them. Hence- 
forth, says he ; that is, since the death and re- 
surrection of Christ, the state of Christianity is 
become so glorious a state, that we do not even 
consider Christ himself as in the flesh upon earth, 
but as a God of glory in heaven; we know and 
consider ourselves not as men in the flesh, but 
as fellow members of a new society, that are to 
have all our hearts, our tempers, and conversa- 
tion in heaven. 

Now as it was the spirit of the world that nail- 
ed our blessed Lord to the cross; so every man 
that has the spirit of Christ, that opposes the 
world, as he did, will certainly be crucified by 
the world some way or other. For Christianity 
still lives in the same world that Christ did; and 
these two will be utter enemies, till the kingdom 
of darkness is entirely at an end. 

Had you lived with our Savior as his true 
disciple, you had been hated as he was ; and 
if you now live in his spirit, the world will be 
the same enemy to you now, that it was to him 



DIFFICULTIES OF HUMILITY. 227 

The Christian world. The Christian spirit. 

then. " If ye were of the world, 3 ' saith our 
blessed Lord, "the world would love its own; 
but because ye are not of the world, but I have 
chosen you out of the world, therefore the world 
hateth you." 

We are apt to lose the true meaning of these 
words, by considering them only as a historical 
description of something that was the state of 
our Savior and his disciples at that time. But 
this is reading the scriptures as a dead letter : for 
they describe with equal exactness the state of 
true Christians at this, and all other times to the 
end of the world. 

You will perhaps say, that the world is now 
become Christian, at least that part of it where 
we live ; and therefore the world is not to be con- 
sidered in that state of opposition to Christianity, 
as when it was heathen. 

It is granted, the world now professeth Chris- 
tianity, but will any one say, that this Christian 
world is of the spirit of Christ? Are its general 
tempers the tempers of Christ? Are the passions 
of sensuality, self-love, pride, covetousness, am- 
bition, and vain glory, less contrary to the spirit 
of the gospel, now they are among Christians, 
than when they were among heathens? Or will 
you say, that the tempers and passions of the 
heathen world are lost and gone? 

Consider what you are to mean by the world. 
Now this is fully described to our hands by 
John. " All that is in the world, the lust of the 



228 SERIOUS CALL. 



The former world. The present world. 

flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life," 
&c. This is an exact and full description of 
the world. Will you say, that this world is 
become Christian? But the fame world is 
now in being, and is the same enemy to Chris- 
tianity, that was in the apostle's days. It was 
this world that John condemned, as being 
not of the Father; whether, therefore, it out- 
wardly professes, or openly persecutes Chris- 
tianity, it is still in the same state of contra- 
riety to the true spirit and holiness of the 
gospel. 

Indeed the world by professing Christianity, is 
so far from being a less dangerous enemy than it 
was before, that it has by its favors destroyed 
more Christians than ever it did by the most 
violent persecution. 

We must therefore be so far from considering 
the world as in a state of less enmity and opposi- 
tion to Christianity, than it was in the first times 
of the gospel, that we must guard against it as a 
greater and more dangerous enemy now, than it 
was in those times. 

It is a greater enemy, because it has greater 
power over Christians, by its favors, riches, hon- 
ors, rewards, and protections, than it hau by the 
fire and fury of its persecutions. It is a more 
dangerous enemy, by having lost its appearance 
of enmity. Its outward profession of Christian- 
ity makes it no longer considered as an enemy, 
and therefore the generality of people are easily 



DIFFICULTIES OF HUMILITY. 229 

The common example of professors pernicious. 

persuaded to resign themselves up to be gov- 
erned and directed by it. 

How many consciences are kept quiet, upon 
no other foun on, than because they sin under 
the authority of the Christian world ! How many 
directions of the gospel lie disregarded; and how 
unconcernedly do particular persons read them; 
for no other reason, but because they seem dis- 
regarded by the Christian world? How many 
compliances do people make to the Christian 
world, without any hesitation or remorse; which, 
if they had been required of them by heathen, 
would have been refused, as contrary to the 
holiness of Christianity? 

Who could be content in seeing how con- 
trary his life is to the gospel, but because he sees 
that he lives as the Christian world does! Who 
that reads the gospel, would want to be persuad- 
ed of the necessity of great self-denial, humility, 
and poverty of spirit, but that the authority of 
the world has banished this doctrine of the cross? 

There is nothing therefore, that a good Chris- 
tian ought to be more suspicious of, or more 
constantly to guard against, than the authority 
of the Christian world.* 

And all the passages of Scripture, which rep- 
resent the world as contrary to Christianity, 
which require our separation from it as from 
a mammon of unrighteousness, a monster of 

* In these remarks, the author means by " Christian world '* 
the public in a Christian land. — Ed. 
20 



230 SERIOUS CALL. 



The world an enemy to holiness. 



iniquity, are all to be taken in the same strict 
sense, in relation to the present world. 

Christians had nothing to fear from the hea- 
then world, but the loss of their lives; but the 
world become a friend, makes it difficult for 
them to save their religion. While pride, sen- 
suality, covetousness, and ambition, had only the 
authority of the heathen world, Christians were 
thereby made more intent upon the contrary vir- 
tues. But now they have the authority of the 
Christian world, private Christians are in the 
utmost danger. 

There is hardly any possibility of saving 
yourself from the present world, but by consid- 
ering it as the same wicked enemy to all true 
holiness, as it is represented to be in the scrip- 
tures; and by assuring yourself, that it is as dan- 
gerous to conform to its tempers and passions, 
now it is Christian, as when it was heathen. 

Ask yourself, is the piety, humility and sobrie- 
ty of the Christian world, the piety, humility and 
sobriety of the Christian spirit? If not, how can 
you be more undone by any world, than by con- 
forming to that which is Christian? 

In every order and station of life, whether of 
learning or business, either in church or state, 
you cannot act up to the spirit of religion with- 
out renouncing the general temper and behavior 
of those, who are of the same order and business 
as yourself. And though human prudence seems 
to talk wisely about the necessity of avoiding 



ERRONEOUS EDUCATION. 231 



Education. Its perversion. 

particularities, yet he that dares not be so weak 
as to he particular, will be often obliged to avoid 
the most substantial duties of Christian piety. 

These reflections will, I hope, help you to 
break through those difficulties, and resist those 
temptations, which the authority and fashion of 
the world have raised against the practice of 
humility. 



CHAP. XIX. 

THE EDUCATION WHICH MEN GENERALLY RECEIVE IN 
THEIR YOUTH, MAKES HUMILITY DIFFICULT. THE 
SPIRIT OF A BETTER EDUCATION, REPRESENTED IN 
THE CHARACTER OF PATERNUS. 

Another difficulty in the practice of humility, 
arises from our education. We are, for the most 
part, corruptly educated, and then committed to 
take our course in a corrupt world; so that it is 
no wonder, if examples of great piety are so sel- 
dom seen. A great part of the world are undone, 
by being born and bred in families that have 
no religion; where they are made vicious and 
irregular, by being like those with whom they 
first lived. 

But this is not the thing I now mean; the 
education that I here intend, is such as children 
generally receive from virtuous and sober pa- 
rents, and learned tutors and governors. 



232 SERIOUS CALL. 



The legitimate object of education. 

Had we continued perfect, as God created the 
first man, perhaps the perfection of our nature 
had been a sufficient self-instruction for every 
one. But as sickness and diseases have created 
the necessity of medicine and physicians, so the 
change and disorder of our rational nature has 
introduced the necessity of education and tutors. 
And as the only end of the physician is, to re- 
store nature to its own state; so the only end of 
education is, to restore our rational nature to its 
proper state. Education therefore is to be con- 
sidered as reason borrowed at second hand, which 
is, as far as it can, to supply the loss of original 
perfection. And as physic may justly be called 
the art of restoring health, so education should 
be considered in no other light, than as the art 
of recovering to man the use of his reason. 

As the instruction of every art or science is 
founded upon the discoveries, the wisdom, expe- 
rience, and maxims of the several great men who 
have labored in it; so that wisdom, or right use 
of our reason, which young people should be 
called to by their education, is nothing else but 
the best experience and finest reasonings of 
men, who have devoted themselves to the study 
of wisdom, and improvement of human nature. 
All, therefore, that great saints and dying men, 
when the fullest of light and conviction, and 
after the highest improvement of their reason, 
have said of the necessity of piety, of the excel- 
lency of virtue, of their duty to God, of the emp- 



ERRONEOUS EDUCATION. 238 

Philosophy. Christianity. 

tiness of riches,- of the vanity of the world; all 
the sentences, judgments, reasonings and maxims 
of the wisest of philosophers, when in their high 
est state of wisdom, should constitute the com 
mon lessons of instruction for youthful minds. 

The youths who attended upon Pythagoras, 
Socrates, Plato, and Epictetus, were thus edu- 
cated. Their every-day instructions were so 
many lectures upon the nature of man, his true 
end, and the right use of his faculties — upon the 
immortality of the soul, its relation to God, the 
beauty of virtue, and its agreeableness to the 
divine nature — upon the dignity of reason, the 
necessity of temperance, fortitude and gene- 
rosity, and the shame and folly of indulging 
our passions. 

As Christianity has new created the moral 
and religious world, and set every thing that is 
reasonable, wise, holy and desirable, in its true 
light; so one would expect, that the education 
of youth should be as much bettered and amended 
by Christianity, as the faith and doctrines of 
religion are amended by it. 

An education under Pythagoras, or Socrates, 
had no other end, but to teach youth to think, 
judge, act, and follow such rules of life, as Py- 
thagoras and Socrates used. And is it not as 
reasonable to suppose, that a Christian education 
should have no other end, but to teach youth 
how to think, and judge, and act, and live accord*- 
ing to the strictest laws of Christianity. 

20* 



£34 SERIOUS CALL, 



The first lesson. The steady aim. 

At least one would suppose, that in all 
Christian schools, the teaching of youth to 
begin their lives in such abstinence, sobriety, 
humility and devotion, as Christianity requires, 
should not only be more, but an hundred 
times more regarded, than any, or all things 
else. 

But alas, modern education is not of this kind. 
The first temper that we try to awaken in child- 
ren, is pride; as dangerous a passion as that of 
lust. We stir them up to vain thoughts of them- 
selves, and do every thing we can to puff up their 
minds with a sense of their own abilities. What- 
ever way of life we intend them for, we stir them 
up to action from principles of strife, ambition, 
glory, envy, and a desire of distinction. 

We repeat and inculcate these motives upon 
them, till they think it a part of their duty to be 
proud, envious, and vain-glorious of their own 
accomplishments. And when we have taught 
them to scorn to be out-done by any, to bear no 
rival, to thirst after every instance of applause, 
and to be content with nothing but the highest dis- 
tinctions; then we begin to take comfort in them, 
and promise the world some mighty things from 
youths of such a glorious spirit. 

If the youth is intended for a trade, we bid him 
look at rich men of the same trade, and consider 
how many now are carried about in their coaches, 
who began in the same low degree as he now 
does. We awaken his ambition, and endeavor 



ERRONEOUS EDUCATION. 235 

Early stimulus. Subsequent effects. 

to give his mind a right turn, by often telling him 
how very rich such and such a tradesman died. 
If he is to be a lawyer, then we set great coun- 
sellors, judges, and chancellors, before his eyes. 
We tell him what great fees, and great applause 
attend fine pleading. We exhort him to take 
fire at these things, to raise a spirit of emulation 
in himself, and to be content with nothing less 
than the highest honors of the profession. 

That this is the nature of our best education, 
is too plain to need any proof; and I believe 
there are few parents, but would be glad to see 
these instructions daily given to their children. 

And after all this, we complain of the effects 
of pride; we wonder to see grown men acted and 
governed by ambition, envy, scorn, and a desire 
of glory; not considering that they were all the 
time of their youth, called upon to all action and 
industry upon the same principles. 

Now if a youth is ever to be so far a Christian 
as to govern his heart by the doctrines of humil- 
ity, I would fain know at what time he is to 
begin it at all, and why we train him up in 
tempers quite contrary to it? 

How dry and poor must the doctrine of humil- 
ity sound to a youth, that has been spurred to 
all his industry by ambition, envy, emulation^ 
and a desire of distinction ? And if he is not to 
act by these principles when he is a man, why 
do we call him to act by them in his youth ? 

Envy is acknowledged to be the most ungen- 



S36 SERIOUS CALL, 



Envy. A nice distinction. 

erous, base, and wicked passion, that can enter 
into the heart of man. And is this a temper to 
be instilled, nourished, and established, in the 
minds of young people? 

I know it is said, that it is not envy, but 
emulation, that is intended to be awakened in 
the minds of young men. But this is vainly 
said. For when children are taught to bear 
no rival, and to scorn to be out-done by any 
of their age, they are plainly and directly taught 
to be envious. It is impossible for any one to 
have this scorn of being out-done, and this con- 
tention with rivals, without burning with envy 
against all those that seem to excel him, or get 
any distinction from him. So that what children 
are taught, is rank envy, only covered with a 
name of a less odious sound. 

If envy is thus confessedly bad, and it be only 
emulation that is endeavored to be awakened in 
children, surely there ought to be great care 
taken, that children may know the one from the 
other, that they may abominate the one as a great 
crime, while they give the other admission into 
their minds. 

But if this were to be attemped, the fineness 
of the distinction between envy and emulation, 
would show that it was easier to divide them in 
words, than to separate them in action. For 
emulation, when it is defined in its best manner, 
is nothing else but a refinement upon envy, or 
rather the most plausible part of that venomous 



ERRONEOUS EDUCATION. 237 

Desire ot" glory. Education by Christ. 

passion. And though it is easy to separate them 
in the notion, yet the most acute philosopher, 
that understands the art of distinguishing ever so 
well, if he give himself up to emulation, will 
certainly find himself deep in envy. 

Envy is not an original temper, but the natural, 
unavoidable effect of emulation, or desire of 
glory. So that he who establishes the one in 
the mind, necessarily fixes the other there. And 
there is no possible way of destroying envy, but 
by destroying a desire of glory. 

It is said in defence of this method of educa- 
tion, that ambition is necessary to excite young 
people to industry; and that if we were to press 
humility upon them, we should deject their minds, 
and sink them into dulness. But those who say 
this, do not consider, that this reason is full as 
strong against pressing humility upon men. 

Who does not see that men want as much the 
assistance of pride, ambition, and vain-glory, to 
spur them up to action and industry, as children? 
It is very certain, that the precepts of humility 
are more contrary to the designs of such men, 
and more grievous to their minds, when pressed 
upon them, than they are to the minds of young 
persons. 

Let those who think that children would be 
spoiled, if they were not thus educated, consider 
this — If any children had been educated by our 
blessed Lord, or his holy apostles, would their 
minds have been sunk into dulness and idleness? 



233 SERIOUS CALL. 



Paternus. Discourse to a son. 

Would not such children have been trained up 
in the profoundest principles of a strict and true 
humility? Can they say that our blessed Lord, 
who was the meekest and humblest man that 
ever was on earth, was hindered by his humility 
from being the greatest example of worthy and 
glorious actions, that ever were done by man ? 

Such reflections are sufficient to expose all the 
poor pretences for an education in pride and 
ambition. 

Paternus lived about two hundred years ago; 
he had but one son, whom he educated himself 
in his own house. As they were sitting together 
in the garden, when the child was ten years old, 
Paternus thus spoke to him. 

The little time that you have been in the 
world, my child, you have spent wholly with 
me ; and my love and tenderness to you, has 
made you look upon me as your only friend and 
benefactor, and the cause of all the comfort and 
pleasure that you enjoy. Your heart, I know, 
would be ready to break with grief, if you thought 
this was the last day that I should live with you. 
But, my child, you are now in the hands, and 
under the care of a much greater Father and 
Friend than I am, whose love to you is far greater 
than mine, and from whom you receive such bles- 
sings as no mortal can give. 

The God whom you have seen me daily wor- 
ship; whom I daily call upon to bless both you 
and me, and all mankind; whose wondrous acts 



A WISE EDUCATION. 239 

God a Father. His greatness. 

are recorded in those scriptures which you con- 
stantly read — the God who created the heavens 
and the earth; who brought a flood upon the 
whole world; who was the God of Abraham, 
Isaac, and Jacob, whom Job blessed in the great- 
est afflictions; who delivered the Israelites out 
of the hands of the Egyptians; who was the 
protector of righteous Joseph, Moses, Joshua 
and Daniel; who sent so many prophets into the 
world; who sent his son Jesus Christ to redeem 
mankind: — This God, with whom the spirits of 
departed good men now live, whom infinite num- 
bers of angels now worship in heaven; is your 
loving Father and Friend, from whom, and not 
from me, you received your being. 

I myself am not half the age of this shady oak, 
under which we sit; our fathers have sat under 
its boughs, we have all of us called it ours in our 
turn, though it stands, and drops its masters, as 
it drops its leaves. You see rny son, this wide 
firmament over our heads, where the sun and 
moon, and all the stars appear in their turns. If 
you were to be carried up to any of these bodies 
at this vast distance from us, you would still dis- 
cover others as much above, as the stars you see 
are above the earth. 

My child, so great is God, that all these 
bodies added together are but as a grain of sand 
in his sight. Yet you are as much the care of 
this great God and Father of all worlds, and all 
spirits, as if he had no son but you, or there were 



240 SERIOUS CALL. 



The divine care. A great family. 

no creature for him to love and protect but you 
alone. He numbers the hairs of your head, 
watches over you sleeping and waking, and has 
preserved you from a thousand dangers, which 
you and I cannot perceive. 

How poor my power is, and how little I am 
able to do for you, you have often seen. Your 
late sickness has shown you how little I could do 
for you in that state. I can bring you food and 
medicine, but have no power to turn them into 
your relief and nourishment. It is God alone 
that can do this for you. 

Therefore, my child, fear and worship, and 
love God. Take him for your Lord and Father 
and Friend; look up unto him as the fountain 
and cause of all the good that you have received 
through my hands, and reverence me only as the 
bearer of God's good things unto you. And He 
that blessed my father before I was born, will 
bless you when I am dead. 

Your little mind is only yet acquainted with 
my family, and therefore you think there is no 
happiness out of it. But my child you belong to 
a greater family than mine; you are a younger 
member of the family of this Almighty Father 
of all nations, who has created infinite orders of 
angels, and numberless generations of men, to 
be fellow members of one and the same society 
in heaven. 

You do well to reverence and obey my author- 
ity, because God has given me power over you, 



•A WISE EDUCATION. 241 

The fear of the Lord. Worship and service. 

to bring you up in his fear. I shall in a short 
time die, and leave you to God, and yourself; 
and if God forgive my sins, I shall go to his 
son Jesus Christ, and live among patriarchs and 
prophets, saints and martyrs. Therefore, my 
child, meditate on these great things, and it 
will tend to make your soul grow great and 
noble. 

As you have been used to look to me in all 
your actions, and have been afraid to do any 
thing, unless you first knew my will} so let it now 
be a rule of your life, to look up to God in all 
your actions, to do every thing in his fear, and 
to abstain from every thing that is not according 
to his will. Bear him always in your mind, 
teach your thoughts to reverence him in every 
place, for there is no place where he is not. 

God, my child, is all love, and wisdom, and 
goodness. Therefore you cannot please God, 
but so far as you strive to walk in love, wisdom 
and goodness. When you love that which God 
loves, you act with him, you join yourself to 
him; and when you love what he dislikes, then 
you oppose him, and separate yourself from him. 

First of all, my child, worship and adore God, 
think of him magnificently, speak of him rever- 
ently, magnify his providence, adore his power, 
frequent his service, and pray to him constantly. 

Next to this, love your neighbor, (which means 
all mankind,) with such tenderness and affection, 
as you love yourself. Think how God loves 
21 



242 SERIOUS CALL, 



Love of mankind. Self-distinction. 

mankind, how merciful he is to them, how ten- 
der he is of them, how carefully he preserves 
them, and then strive to love the world as God 
loves it. 

God would have all men to be happy, there- 
fore do you desire the same. All men are great 
instances of divine love, therefore let all men be 
instances of your love. 

My son, mark this; never do any thing through 
strife, or envy, or emulation, or vain glory. 
Never do any thing in order to excel other peo- 
ple, but in order to please God, and because it is 
his will, that you should do every thing in the 
best manner that you can. For if it be once a 
pleasure to you to excel other people, it will by 
degrees become a pleasure to you, to see other 
people not so good as yourself. 

Banish therefore every thought of self-distinc- 
tion, and accustom yourself to rejoice in all the 
excellences and perfections of your fellow crea- 
tures, and be as glad to see any of their good 
actions, as your own. For as God is as well 
pleased with their good doings as with yours, so 
you ought to desire, that everything that is wise, 
and holy, and good, may be performed in as high 
a manner by other people, as by yourself. 

Let this be your only motive to all actions, to 
do every thing in as perfect a manner as you 
can, because it is pleasing to God. When I am 
dead, my son, you will be master of my estate, 
which will be more than the necessities of one 



A WISE EDUCATION. 243 

Charity. Dress. 

family require. Therefore, be charitable to the 
souls of men, and wish them the same happiness 
with you in heaven, and be charitable to their 
bodies, and endeavor to make them happy upon 
earth. Do good, first to those that most deserve 
it, but remember to do good to all. The greatest 
sinners receive daily instances of God's good- 
ness; he nourishes and preserves them, that they 
may repent, and return to him; therefore imitate 
God, and think no one too bad to receive your 
kindness, when you see that he wants it. 

Study how to fill your heart with the love of 
God, and the love of your neighbor, and be con- 
tent to be no deeper a scholar, no finer a gentle- 
man, than these tempers will make you. As 
true religion is nothing else but simple nature 
governed by right reason, so it loves and requires 
great plainness and simplicity of life. Avoid, 
therefore, all superfluous finery and equipage, 
and let your house be plainly furnished with 
moderate conveniences. Do not consider what 
your estate can afford, but what right reason 
requires. 

Let your dress be sober, clean, and modest, 
not to set out the beauty of your person, but to 
declare the sobriety of your mind, that your out- 
ward garb may resemble the inward plainness 
and simplicity of your heart. For it is highly 
reasonable, that you should appear outwardly 
such as you are inwardly. As to meat and drink, 
observe the highest rules of Christian temperance 



244 SERIOUS CALL. 



Human glory. Humility. 



and sobriety. Consider your body only as the 
servant of your soul 5 and only nourish it, as it 
may best perform an obedient service to it. 

But, my son, observe this as a principal thing, 
which I shall remind you of as long as I live 
with you. Hate and despise all human glory, 
for it is nothing else but human folly. It is the 
greatest snare and the greatest betrayer that you 
can possibly admit into your heart. Love hu- 
mility in all its instances, practise it in all its 
parts, for it is the noblest state of the soul of 
man. 

Let every day be a day of humility, condescend 
to all the weakness and infirmities of your fellow 
creatures, cover their frailties, love their excel- 
lences, encourage their virtues, relieve their 
wants, rejoice in their prosperities, compassionate 
their distress, receive their friendships, overlook 
their unkindness, forgive their malice, be a ser- 
vant of servants, and condescend to do the lowest 
offices to the lowest of mankind. 

Aspire after nothing but your own purity, 
perfection, and usefulness; and have no ambition 
but to do every thing in so reasonable and relig- 
ious a manner, that you may be glad that God is 
every where present, and sees and observes all 
your actions. The greatest trial of humility, is 
a humble behavior towards your equals in age, 
estate, and condition of life. Therefore be 
careful of all the motions of your heart towards 
these. Let all vour behavior towards them be 



A WISE EDUCATION. 245 

Love. Time short. 

governed by unfeigned love. Have no desire to 
put any of your equals below you, nor any anger 
at those that would put themselves above you. 
If they are proud , they are ill of a very bad dis- 
temper j let them therefore have your tender pity, 
and perhaps your meekness may prove an occa- 
sion of their cure. But if your humility should 
do them no good, it will however be the greatest 
good that you can do to yourself. 

Remember that there is but one man in the 
world, with whom you are to have perpetual 
contention, and be always striving to exceed 
him, and that is yourself. 

The time of practising these precepts, my 
child, will soon be over with you, the world will 
soon slip through your hands, or rather you will 
soon slip through it. It seems but the other day 
since I received these same instructions from my 
dear father, that I am now leaving with you. 
And the God that gave me ears to hear, and a 
heart to receive what my father said unto me, 
will, I hope, give you grace to love and follow 
the same instructions. 

Thus did Paternus educate his son. 

Can any one think that such an education 
would weaken and deject the minds of young 
people, and deprive the world of any worthy and 
reasonable labors? It is so far from that, that 
there is nothing so likely to ennoble the mind, 
and prepare it for the most heroic exercise of all 
virtues. Who will say, that a love of God, a 

21* 



246 SERIOUS CALL, 



The slavery produced by love of praise. 

desire of pleasing him, a love of our neighbor, a 
love of truth, reason and virtue, a contemplation 
of eternity and the rewards of piety, are not 
stronger motives to great and good actions, than 
a little uncertain popular praise ? 

On the other hand, there is nothing in reality 
that more weakens the mind, and reduces it to 
meanness and slavery : — nothing which makes it 
less master of its own actions, or less capable of 
following the dictates of reason, than a love of 
praise and honor. For as praise and honor are 
often given where they are not due; as that is 
generally most praised and honored, that most 
gratifies the humors, fashions, and vicious tem- 
pers of the world; so he that acts upon the desire 
of applause, must part with every other principle. 
He must say black is white, put bitter for sweet, 
and sweet for bitter, and do the meanest, basest 
things, in order to be applauded. 

So that to educate children upon a motive of 
emulation, or a desire of glory, in a world where 
glory itself is false, and commonly given wrong, 
is to give them a bias which will oftener carry 
them to base and mean, than to great and worthy 
actions. 



347 



CHAP. XX. 

THE METHOD OF EDUCATING DAUGHTERS, MAKES IT 
DIFFICULT FOR THEM TO ENTER INTO THE SPIRIT 
OF HUMILITY. HOW MISERABLY THEY ARE INJURED 
BY SUCH AN EDUCATION. A BETTER EDUCATION 
REPRESENTED IN THE CHARACTER OF EUSEBIA. 

The right education of the female sex is of the 
utmost importance to human life. There is no- 
thing more desirable for the common good of all 
the world. For though women do not carry on 
the business of the world, yet as mothers, and 
mistresses of families, that have for some time 
the care of the education of their children of both 
sorts, and are entrusted with that which is of the 
greatest consequence to human life. For this 
reason, good or bad women are likely to do as 
much good or harm in the world, as men. 

We call our first language our mother tongue. 
So we may call our first tempers our mother- 
tempers; and perhaps it may be found more easy 
to forget the language, than to part entirely with 
those tempers which we learned in the nursery. 
It is therefore much to be lamented, that this sex, 
on whom depends the first forming both of our 
bodies and our minds, are not only educated in 
pride, but in the silliest and most contemptible 
part of it. 

They are not indeed suffered to dispute with 
us the prizes of art and science, of learning and 
eloquence, in which I suspect they would often 



248 SERIOUS CALL. 



Female sex. How spoiled. 

prove our superiors; but we turn them over to 
the study of beauty and dress, and the world con- 
spires to make them think of little else. Fathers 
and mothers, friends, and relations, seem to have 
no other wish towards the little girl, but that she 
may have a fair skin, a fine shape, dress well, 
and dance to admiration. 

What makes this matter still more to be 
lamented, is, that women are not only spoiled 
by this education, but we spoil that part of the 
world, which would otherwise furnish most in- 
stances of eminent and exalted piety. For it may 
be affirmed, that for the most part there is a 
finer sense, a clearer mind, a readier apprehen- 
sion, and gentler dispositions, in that sex, than 
in the other. All these tempers, if they were 
truly improved by proper methods of education, 
would carry them to greater heights of piety than 
are to be found among the generality of men. 

I speak of this matter with openness and plain- 
ness, because it is much to be lamented, that 
persons naturally qualified to be great examples 
of piety, should, by an erroneous education be 
made poor spectacles of the greatest vanity. 

Females should consider, that the friends to 
their vanity are no friends of theirs. They should 
consider, that they are to live for themselves, 
that they have as great a share in the rational 
nature as men have; that they have as much 
reason to aspire after the highest accomplish- 
ments of solid virtue, as the gravest among Chris- 



THE EDUCATION OF DAUGHTERS. 249 

A charge refuted. Matilda. 

tian philosophers. They should consider that 
they are abused and betrayed from their only 
perfection, when they are taught that any thing 
is an ornament in them 5 that is not an ornament 
in the wisest among mankind. 

It is generally said that women are naturally 
of little and vain minds. But this I look upon to 
be as false and unreasonable, as to say, that 
butchers are naturally cruel; whose cruelty is 
not owing to their nature, but to their way of 
life. Whatever littleness and vanity is to be 
observed in women, is like the cruelty of butch- 
ers, a temper wrought into them by that life 
which they are taught to lead. At least we must 
not charge any thing upon their nature, till we 
take care that it is not perverted by education. 

Matilda is a fine woman, of good breeding, 
and great sense, and much of what is commonly 
called religion. She has three daughters that are 
educated by herself. She will not trust them 
with any one else, or at any school, for fear they 
should learn any thing ill. She stays with the 
dancing-master all the time he is with them, be- 
cause she will hear every thing that is said to 
them. She has heard them read the scriptures 
so often, that they can repeat much of it without 
book: and there is scarcely a good book of devo- 
tion, but you may find in their closets. 

Had Matilda lived in the first ages when Chris- 
tianity was practised in the fulness and plainness 
of its doctrines, she had in all probability been 



250 SERIOUS CALL* 



Zeal for religion. Zeal for folly. 

one of its greatest saints. But as she was born 
in corrupt times, where she wants examples of 
Christian perfection , and hardly ever saw a piety 
higher than her own; so she has many defects, 
and communicates them all to her daughters. 

Her daughters see her great zeal for religion, 
but then they see an equal earnestness for finery. 
They see she is not negligent of her devotion, 
but then they see her more careful to preserve 
her complexion, and to prevent those changes 
with which time and age threaten her. 

They are afraid to meet her, if they have miss- 
ed attending public worship; but they are more 
afraid to see her, if they are not laced as straight 
as they can possibly be. 

The children see so plainly the temper of their 
mother,, that to gain her favor, they affect to be 
even more pleased with dress, and to be more 
fond of little ornaments than they really are. 

They saw their eldest sister once brought to 
tears, and her perverseness severely reprimand- 
ed, for presuming to say, that she thought it was 
better to cover the neck, than to go so far naked 
as the custom required. 

She stints them in their meals, and is very 
scrupulous of what they eat and drink, and tells 
them how many fine shapes she has seen spoiled 
in her time for want of such care. If a pimple 
rises in their faces, she is in a great fright, and 
they themselves are as afraid to see her with it $ 
as if they had committed some great sin. 



THE EDUCATION OF DAUGHTERS. 251 



The health injured. Bad marriage. 

Whenever they begin to look sanguine and 
healthy, she calls in the assistance of the doc- 
tor; and if physic, or issues, will keep the com- 
plexion from inclining to be coarse or ruddy, she 
thinks them well employed. 

By this means they are pale, sickly, infirm 
creatures, crying at small accidents, swooning 
away at any thing that frights them, and hardly 
able to bear the weight of their best clothes. 

The eldest daughter lived as long as she could 
under this discipline, and died in the twentieth 
year of her age. When the body was opened, it 
appeared that her ribs, liver, and other inward 
parts were much hurt by being crushed together 
with her corsets. 

Her youngest daughter has run away with a 
gamester, a man of great beauty, who in dressing 
and dancing has no superior. Matilda says, she 
should die with grief at this accident, but that her 
conscience tells her, she has contributed nothing 
to it herself. She appeals to their closets, to their 
books of devotion, to testify what care she has 
taken to establish her children in a life of solid 
piety and devotion. 

Now though I do not intend to say, that no 
daughters are brought up in a better way than 
this, for I hope many are; yet I believe that the 
greater part of them are not brought up so well, 
or accustomed to so much religion, as in the pres- 
ent instance. Their minds are turned as much 
to the care of their beauty and dress, and the 



252 SERIOTTS CALL. 



A wonder explained. Severity denied. 

indulgence of vain desires, as in the present case, 
without having such rules of devotion to stand 
against it. So that if piety, humility, and a sober 
sense of themselves, is much wanted in that sex, 
it is the plain and natural consequence of a vain 
and corrupt education. 

If they are often too ready to receive the fops, 
and fine dancers, for their husbands; it is no 
wonder they should like that in men, which they 
have been taught to admire in themselves. And 
if they are often seen to lose what little religion 
they were taught in their youth, it is no more to 
be wondered at, than to see a little flower choak- 
ed and killed among rank weeds. 

Those who judge hastity, may say, that I am 
exercising too great severity against the sex. 
But more reasonable persons will observe, that I 
spare the sex, and only arraign their education. 
I not only spare them, but plead their interest, 
assert their honor, and set forth their perfections. 

Their education I cannot spare; but the only 
reason is because it is their greatest enemy, be- 
cause it deprives the world of so many blessings, 
and the church of so many saints. 

If any one would know, how generally women 
are hurt by this education; if he imagines there 
may be no personal pride, or vain fondness of 
themselves, in those who are patched and dressed 
out with so much glitter of art and ornament, 
let him only make the following experiment 
wherever he pleases. Let him acquaint any 



THE EDUCATION OF DAUGHTERS. 253 

Am experiment. Eusebia. 

such woman with his opinion of her. I do not 
mean that he should teil her to her face, or do it 
in any rude public manner; but let him contrive 
the most civil, secret, friendly way just to let her 
know his opinion, that he thinks she is neither 
handsome, nor dresses well, nor becomes her 
finery; and I dare say, he will find there are 
very few women, who will not like him the less 
for his opinion, though known to none but them- 
selves. And he will not be long without seeing 
the effects of her resentment. 

Though it is hard to judge of the hearts of 
people, yet where they declare their resentment, 
and uneasiness at any thing, there they pass 
judgment upon themselves. If a woman cannot 
forgive a man who thinks she has no beauty, nor 
any ornament from her dress, she infallibly dis- 
covers the state of her own heart, and is con- 
demned by her own, and not another's judgment. 
For we never are angry at others, but when their 
opinions of us are contrary to that which we 
have of ourselves. A man that makes no pre- 
tence to scholarship, is never angry at those who 
do not take him to be a scholar. So if a woman 
had no opinion of her own person and dress, she 
would never be angry at those, who are of the 
same opinion with herself. 

How possible it is to bring up daughters in a 
more excellent way, let the following character 
declare. 

Eusebia is a pious widow, and has a good 

QG) 



254 SERIOUS CALL. 



Female labor. Worldly cares. 

estate for five daughters, whom she carefully 
brings up for God. 

She, with her daughters, and her maids, meet 
together for prayer at stated hours, and chant 
psalms and other devotions, and spend all the 
rest of their time in good works, and innocent 
diversions. She loves them as her spiritual 
children, and they reverence her as their spiritual 
mother, with an affection far above that of the 
fondest friends. She has divided part of her 
estate among them, that every one may be char- 
itable out of their own stock. She brings them 
up to all kinds of labor proper for women ; not 
for their amusement, but that they may be ser- 
viceable to themselves and others, and be saved 
from those temptations which attend an idle life. 
She tells them, she had rather see them reduced 
to the necessity of maintaining themselves by 
work, than to have riches to excuse themselves 
from labor. For though, says she, you may be 
able to assist the poor without labor, yet by your 
labor you will be able to assist them more. 

As to worldly cares, they are most of them of 
our own making, and fall away as soon as we 
know ourselves. 

If a person in a dream is disturbed with strange 
appearances, his trouble is over as soon as he is 
awake. Now when a knowledge of ourselves 
enters into our minds, it makes as great a change 
in all our thoughts and apprehensions, as when 
we awake from a dream. 



THE EDUCATION OF DAUGHTERS. £55 

Strange fancies. We are spirits. 

We acknowledge a man to be mad or melan- 
choly, who fancies himself to be glass, and so is 
afraid of stirring; or taking himself to be wax, 
dare not let the sun shine upon him. But, my 
children, there are things in the world which 
pass for wisdom, politeness, grandeur, happiness, 
and fine breeding, which show as great ignorance 
of ourselves, and might as justly pass for tho- 
rough madness, as when a man cherishes these 
fancies. A woman who dares not appear in the 
world without fine clothes, who thinks it a hap- 
piness to have a fine face, to have a delicate 
skin, who had rather die than be reduced to 
poverty, and be forced to work for a poor main- 
tenance, is to the full, as ignorant of herself, as 
he who fancies himself to be glass. 

For this reason, all my discourse with you has 
been to acquaint you with yourselves, and to ac- 
custom you to such books and devotions, as may 
best instruct you in this greatest of all knowledge. 

Though you were born of my body, and bear 
your father's name, yet you are pure spirits. I 
do not mean that you have not bodies that want 
meat and drink, and sleep, and clothing, but that 
all that deserves to be called you, is nothing else 
but spirit. A being spiritual and rational in its 
nature — that is as contrary to all corporeal be- 
ings, as life is contrary to death — that is made in 
the image of God, to live for ever, never to cease 
any more, but to enjoy life, and reason, and 
knowledge, and happiness in the presence of 



256 SERIOUS CALL. 



We are fallen. The internal war 

God, and the society of glorified spirits, to all 
eternity. 

Every thing that you call yours, besides this 
spirit, is but like your clothing — something that 
is only to be used for awhile, and then to wear 
out and die, and to signify no more to you, than 
the clothing and bodies of other people. 

But, my children, you are not only spirits, but 
you are fallen spirits, that began your life in a 
state of corruption and disorder, full of tempers 
and passions, that blind and darken the reason 
of your mind and incline you to that which is 
hurtful. Your bodies are not only poor and 
perishing like your clothes, but they are like in- 
fected clothes, that rill you with distempers, and 
oppress the soul with sickly appetites and vain 
cravings. 

Christians, therefore, have, as it were, two 
hearts within them. With the one, they see, and 
taste, and admire reason, purity and holiness, 
with the other they incline to pride, vanity, and 
sensual delights. 

This internal war we always feel more or less 5 
and if you would know the one thing necessary 
to all the world, it is this* — to preserve and per- 
fect all that is rational and divine in our nature, 
and to mortify, remove, and destroy all that 
vanity, pride, and sensuality, which springs from 
the corruption of our state. 

The world is in a great dream, and but few 
people are awake in it. We fancy that we fall 



the education of daughters. 257 

Duties to the sou!. Duties to the body. 

into darkness, when we die; but, alas! most of 
us are in the dark till then; and the eyes of our 
souls begin to see, only when our bodily eyes 
are closing* 

You see then your state, my children. You 
are to honor, improve, and perfect the soul. 
You are to prepare it for the kingdom of heaven, 
to nourish it with the love of God, and of virtue, 
to adorn it with good works, and to make it as 
holy and heavenly as you can. You are to pre- 
serve it from the errors and vanities of the 
world; to save it from the corruptions of the 
body, and from false delights, and sensual tem- 
pers. 

You are to nourish your spirits with pious 
readings and meditations, with watchings, fast- 
ings, and prayers, that you may taste and relish, 
and desire that eternal state, which is to begin 
when this life ends. 

As to your bodies, you are to consider them as 
poor, perishing things, that are sickly and corrupt 
at present, and will soon drop into common dust. 
You are to watch over them as exposed to many 
temptations. You are to consider them as the 
habitation of your souls, and so keep them pure 
and clean. You are to consider them as the 
servants and instruments of action, and so give 
them food, rest, and raiment, that they may be 
strong and healthful to do the duties of a charit- 
able, useful, and pious life. 

Whenever you have less regard to your souls, 



258 SERIOUS CALL. 

i — i *- —.«< 

Amusements. Manners. 

or more regard to your bodies., than this comes 
to; — whenever you are more intent upon adorn- 
ing your persons, than upon perfecting your 
souls, you are much more beside yourselves, than 
he who had rather have a fine coat than a 
healthy body, 

For this reason, my children, I have taught 
you nothing that was dangerous for you to learn. 
I have kept you from every thing that might 
betray you into weakness and folly, or make you 
think any thing happiness, but the favor of God; 
or any thing desirable, but to do all the good 
you can. 

Instead of the vain, immodest entertainment 
of plays and operas, I have taught you to delight 
in visiting the sick and poor. What music, and 
dancing, and diversions are to many in the world, 
prayers and devotions, and psalms are to you. 
Your hands have not been employed in plaiting 
the hair, and adorning your persons; but in 
making clothes for the naked. You have not 
wasted your fortunes upon yourselves, but have 
added your labor to them, to do more good to 
other people. Instead of forced shapes, patched 
faces, genteel airs, and affected motions, I have 
taught you to conceal your bodies with modest 
garments, and let the world have nothing to view 
of you, but the plainness and sincerity, and 
humility of all your behavior. 

You know, my children, the high perfection, 
and the great rewards of virginity; you know 



THE EDUCATION OF DAUGHTERS. v 2o9 

Virginity and marriage. Idleness. 



how it frees from worldly cares and troubles, 
and furnishes means and opportunities of higher 
advancement in a divine life; therefore love, 
esteem, and honor virginity. But as every one 
has their proper gift from God, as I look upon 
you all to be so many great blessings of a mar- 
ried state; so I leave it to your choice, either to 
do as I have done, or to aspire after perfection in 
a virgin state of life, I desire -nothing, I press 
nothing upon you, but to make the most of 
human life, and to aspire after perfection in 
whatever state of life you choose. 

Never, therefore, consider yourselves as per- 
sons that are to be seen, admired, and courted* 
but as poor sinners, that are to save yourselves 
from the vanities and follies of a miserable 
world, by humility, devotion, and seif-deniah 
Learn to let nothing in the world be of any value 
with you, but that which you can turn into a 
service to God, and a means of your future 
happiness* 

Whether married, therefore, or unmarried, 
consider yourselves as mothers and sisters, as 
friends and relations, to ail that want your assis- 
tance; and never allow yourselves to be idle, 
while others are in want of any thing that your 
hands can make for them. Next to reading, 
meditation and prayer, there is nothing that so 
secures our hearts from foolish passions, nothing 
that preserves so holy and wise a frame of mind, 
as some useful, humble employment of ourselves. 



260 SERIOUS CALL. 



Childishness. Useless labor. 

Never, therefore, consider your labor as an 
amusement, that is to rid you of time, and so 
may be as trifling as you please. Consider it as 
something that is to be serviceable to yourselves 
and others, that is to serve some sober ends of 
life, to save and redeem your time, and make it 
turn to your account, when the works of all 
people shall be tried by fire. 

When you were little, I left you to little 
amusements, to please yourselves in any things 
that were free from harm; but you are now to 
do nothing as children. Despise every thing 
that is poor, or vain, and impertinent. Make 
the labors of your hands suitable to the piety of 
your hearts, and employ yourselves for the same 
ends, and with the same spirit, as you watch 
and pray. 

What would you think of the wisdom of him, 
that should employ his time in making liquors 
which nobody could use 3 merely to amuse him- 
self with the variety of their color, when, with 
less labor and expense, he might relieve those 
who have nothing to drink* Yet he would be as 
wisely employed, as those who amuse themselves 
with such tedious works as they neither need^ 
nor hardly know how to use; when with less 
labor and expense they might be clothing the 
naked or visiting the sick. 

Be glad therefore to know the wants of the 
poorest people, and let your hands be employed 
in making such things for them, as their necessi- 



THE EDUCATION OF DAUGHTERS. 261 



Acceptable charity. Foolish friendships. 

ties require. Nothing can make your own 
charity more acceptable in the sight of God, 
than this method of adding your labor to it. 

Thus will you be true disciples of your 
meek Lord and Master, who " came into the 
world, not to be ministered unto, but to minis- 
ter; 53 and though he was Lord of all, and among 
creatures of his own making, yet was among 
them, " as one that serveth." 

Live therefore, my children, in humble labor 
for the good of others; and let ceremonious vis- 
its, and vain acquaintances, have as little of your 
time as possible. Contract no foolish friendships, 
or vain fondness for particular persons; but love 
them most, that most turn your love towards 
God, and your compassion towards all the world. 
Above all, avoid the conversation of fops and 
beaux, and hate the idle discourse and compli- 
ments of that sort of men. They are the shame 
of their own sex, and ought to be the abhorrence 
of yours. 

When you go abroad, let humility, modesty, 
and a decent carriage, be all the state that you 
take upon you: and let tenderness, compassion, 
and good nature, be all the fine breeding that 
you show in any place. If evil speaking, scan- 
dal, or backbiting, be the conversation where 
you happen to be, keep your heart and your 
tongue to yourself; be as much grieved, as if you 
was among cursing and swearing, and retire as 
soon as you can. 



262 SERIOUS CALL. 



Choice of a husband. Loving the poor. 

Never marry, till you find a man that seeks 
those perfections, which you labor after your- 
selves; who is likely to be a friend to all your 
virtues, and with whom it is better to live, than 
to want the benefit of his example and aid. 

Love and reverence poor people; as for many 
reasons, so particularly for this; because our 
blessed Savior was one of the number, and be- 
cause you may make them all so many friends 
and advocates with God for you. Visit and con- 
verse with them frequently; you will often find 
simplicity, innocence, patience, fortitude, and 
great piety among them; and where they are not 
so, your good example may amend them. 

Rejoice at every opportunity of doing a humble 
action, and exercising the meekness of your 
minds; whether it be, as the Scripture expresses 
it, in washing the saints' feet, that is, in waiting 
upon, and serving those that are below you; or 
in bearing with the haughtiness and ill manners 
of your equals or superiors. For there is nothing 
better than humility; it is the fruitful soil of all 
virtues; and every thing that is kind and good, 
naturally grows from it. Therefore, pray for, and 
practise humility, and reject every thing in dress, 
or conversation, that has any appearance of pride. 

Strive to do every thing that is praiseworthy, 
but do nothing in order to be praised; nor think 
of any reward for all your labors and virtue, till 
Christ cometh with his holy angels. 

Above all, have a care of vain and proud 



THE EDUCATION OF DAUGHTERS. 263 

Spiritual pride. 

thoughts of your own virtues. For as soon as 
ever people live different from the common way 
of the world, and despise its vanities, the devil 
represents to their minds the heights of their own 
perfection; and is content they should excel in 
good works, provided that he can but make them 
proud of them. Never allow yourselves to 
despise those w 7 ho do not follow your rules of 
life; but force your hearts to love them, and pray 
to God for them; and let humility be always 
whispering into your ears, that you yourselves 
will fall from those rules to-morrow, if God 
should leave you to your own strength and 
wisdom. When, therefore, you have spent days 
and weeks well, do not suffer your hearts to con- 
template any thing as your own, but give all the 
glory to the goodness of God, who has carried 
you through such rules of holy living, as you 
were not able to observe by your own strength; 
and take care to begin the next day, not as pro- 
ficients in virtue, that can do great matters, but 
as poor beginners, that want the daily assistance 
of God, to save you from the grossest sins. 

The spirit of this education speaks so plainly 
for itself, that nothing need be said in its justifi- 
cation. If we could see it in life, as well as read 
of it in books, the world would soon find the 
happy effects of it. A daughter thus educated, 
would be a blessing to any family that she came 
into; fit to be the companion of a wise man, and 
to educate his children. And she that either was 



264 SERIOUS CALL. 



Personal appearance. Unconscious guilt. 

not inclined, or could not dispose of herself well 
in marriage, would know how to live to great 
and excellent ends in a state of virginity. 

What should a Christian woman he, but a plain, 
unaffected, modest, humble creature, averse to 
every thing in her appearance or manners that 
can draw the eyes of beholders, or gratify the 
passions of lewd and amorous persons? 

How great a stranger must he be to the gospel, 
who does not know that it requires this to be the 
spirit of a pious woman? Oar blessed Savior 
says, (t Whosoever looketh upon a woman to 
lust after her, hath already committed adultery 
with her in his heart." Need an education 
which turns women's minds to the arts and or- 
naments of dress and beauty, be more strongly 
condemned, than by these words? 

How can a woman of piety more justly abhor 
and avoid any thing, than that which makes her 
person a temptation to others? If lust and 
wanton eyes are the death of the soul, can any 
women think themselves innocent, who in their 
dress and deportment invite the eye to offend? 

As there is no pretence for innocence in such 
a behavior, so neither can they tell how to set 
bounds to their guilt. For as they can never 
know how r much, or how often they have oc- 
casioned sin in other people, so they can never 
know how much guilt will be placed to their 
own account. This, one would think, should 
sufficiently deter every pious woman from every 



THE EDUCATION OF DAUGHTERS. 265 

Paul's reasoning. Deduction. 

thing that might render her the occasion of 
loose passions in other people. 

Paul, speaking of a thing entirely innocent, 
reasons after this manner: "But take heed, lest 
by any means this liberty of yours become a 
stumbling-block to those that are weak. When 
ye sin so against the brethren, and wound their 
weak conscience, ye sin against Christ. Where- 
fore, if meat make my brother to offend, I will 
eat no flesh while the world standeth, lest I make 
my brother to offend." Now if the spirit of 
Christianity requires us to abstain from things 
lawful, innocent, and useful, when there is dan- 
ger of their betraying our weak brethren into an 
error, surely it cannot be reckoned too nice or 
needless a point of conscience, for women to 
avoid such things, as are neither innocent nor 
useful, but naturally tend to corrupt their own 
hearts, and raise ill passions in other people. 

These considerations will, I hope, instruct you 
how to form your prayers for it to the best advan- 
tage 5 and teach you the necessity of letting no 
day pass, without a serious, earnest application 
to God, for the whole spirit of humility; Fer- 
vently beseeching him to fill every part of your 
soul with it, to make it the ruling, constant habit 
of your mind, that you may not only feel it, but 
feel all your other tempers arising from it; that 
you may have no thoughts, no desires, no designs, 
but such as are the true fruits of an humble, 
meek, and lowly heart. 

23 



266 SERIOUS CALL, 



CHAP. XXL 

THE FREQUENCY OF DEVOTION EQUALLY DESIRABLE 
BY ALL ORDERS OF PEOPLE. UNIVERSAL LOVE. 

It will perhaps be thought by some people, 
that frequent hours of prayer can only be ob- 
served by people of great leisure, and ought not 
to be pressed upon the generality of men, who 
have the cares of families, trades and employ- 
ments. 

To this it is answered, 

1. If a great and exemplary devotion is as 
much the greatest happiness and perfection cf a 
merchant, a soldier, or a man of quality, as it is 
the greatest happiness and perfection of the most 
retired contemplative life, then it is as proper to 
recommend it, without any abatements, to one 
order of men as to another. Because happiness 
and perfection are of the same worth and value 
to all people. 

It is certainly very honest and creditable for 
people to engage in trades and employments; it 
is reasonable for gentlemen to manage well their 
estates and families, and such recreations as are 
proper to their state. But then every gentleman 
and tradesman loses the greatest happiness of 
his creation, and is robbed of something that is 
greater than all employments, distinctions, and 
pleasures in the world, if he does not live more 
to piety and devotion, than to any thing else in 
the world. 



THE FREQUENCY OF DEVOTION. 267 

No avocation excuses from frequent devotion. 

Here are therefore no excuses made for men 
of business and figure in the world. It would be 
to excuse them from that which is the greatest 
end of living, and be only finding so many 
reasons for making them less beneficial to 
themselves, and less serviceable to God and 
to the world. 

2. Merchants and tradesmen, are generally ten 
times more engaged in business than they need; 
which is so far from being a reasonable excuse 
for their want of time for devotion, that it is 
their crime, and must be censured as a blam- 
able instance of covetousness and ambition. 

Unless gentlemen can show that they have 
another God, than the Father of our Lord Jesus 
Christ; another nature, than that which is derived 
from Adam; another religion, than the Christian, 
it is vain to plead their state, and dignity, and 
pleasures, as reasons for not preparing their souls 
for God, by a strict and regular devotion. 

If a merchant having forborne from too great 
business, that he might quietly attend on the ser- 
vice of God, should therefore die w r orth twenty, 
instead of fifty thousand pounds, could any one 
say that he had mistaken his calling, or gone out 
of the world a loser ? 

If a gentleman should have been less frequent 
at balls, gaming, and merry meetings, because 
stated parts of his time had been given to retire- 
ment, to meditation and devotion, could it be 
thought, that when he left the world, he would 



268 SERIOUS CALL. 



Leaving a fortune. Solemn questions. 

regret the loss of those hours that he had given 
to the care and improvement of his soul? 

If a tradesman, by aspiring after Christian 
perfection, and retiring himself often from his 
business, should, instead of leaving his children 
fortunes to spend in luxury and idleness, leave 
them to live by their own honest labor; could it 
be said, that he had made a wrong use of the 
world, because he had shown his children, that 
he had more regard to that which is eternal, than 
to this which is so soon to be at an end. 

Since therefore devotion is the best and most 
desirable practice of men, as men, and in every 
state of life; they that desire to be excused from 
it, because they are men of estates, and business, 
are no wiser than those that should desire to be 
excused from health and happiness, because they 
were men of figure and estates. 

I cannot see why every man, should not put 
these questions seriously to himself: " What is 
the best thing for me to intend and drive at in all 
my actions? How shall I do to make the most 
of human life ? What ways shall I wish that I 
had taken, when I am leaving the world? " 

Now to be thus wise, and to make this use of 
our reason, seems to be but a small and necessa- 
ry .piece of wisdom. For how can we pretend to 
sense and judgment, if we dare not seriously 
consider, and answer, and govern our lives by 
that which such questions require of us ? 

Any devotion that is not to the greater advan- 



THE FREQUENCY OF DEVOTION. 269 

Devi tion our happiness. Universal obligations. 



tage of him who uses it, than any thing that he 
can do in the room of it; — any devotion that does 
not procure an infinitely greater good, than can 
be got by neglecting it, is freely yielded up; here 
is no demand of it. 

If you are a man of estate, and are to act the 
part of such a station of human life; you are not 
called, it is iiue, as Elijah was, to be a prophet; 
or as Paul, to be an apostle. But will you not 
therefore love yourself? Will you not seek and 
study your own happiness, because you are not 
called to preach up the same things to other peo- 
ple? You would think it very absurd, for a man 
not to value his own health, because he was not 
a physician; or the preservation of his limbs, be- 
cause he was not a bone setter. Yet it is more 
absurd for you, to neglect the improvement of your 
soul in piety, because you are not a preacher. 

Consider this text: " If ye live after the flesh, 
ye shall die; but if through the spirit ye do mor- 
tify the deeds of the body, ye shall live.' 5 This 
scripture equally relates to all mankind. Can 
you find any exception here for men of figure 
and estate ? 

Again, consider this great doctrine of the apos- 
tle: " For none of us, [that is, of Christians,] 
liveth to himself: for whether we live, we live 
unto the Lord; and whether we die, we die unto 
the Lord." 

Now are you excepted out of the doctrine of 
this text? Will you leave it to any particular 

23* 



270 SERIOUS CALL, 



Living to ourselves. Our calling. 

sort of people, to live and die unto Christ? If so, 
you must leave it to them, to be redeemed by 
Christ. For it is the express doctrine of the text, 
that " for this end Christ died and rose again, that 
none of us should live to himself. 55 It is not that 
ministers, or apostles, should live no longer to 
themselves; but that no Christian, of what state 
soever, should live unto himself. 

If, therefore, there be any rules of devotion, 
which you can neglect and yet live as truly unto 
Christ, as if you observed them, this text calls 
you to no such devotion. But if you forsake 
such devotion, as you know is expected from 
some particular sorts of people; such devotion as 
you know becomes those that live wholly unto 
Christ, and aspire after great piety; if you neg- 
lect devotion, that you may live more to your 
own temper and taste, more to the fashions and 
ways of the world, you forsake the terms on 
which all Christians partake of the benefit of 
Christ's death and resurrection. 

Observe farther, how the same doctrine is 
taught by Peter; " As he which hath called you 
is holy, so be ye holy in all manner of conver- 
sation. 55 

If, therefore, you are one of those who are 
here called, you see what it is that you are called 
to. It is not to have so much religion as suits 
your temper, business, or pleasure; it is not to a 
particular sort of piety, that may be sufficient for 
gentlemen; but it is first, to be holy, as he who 



THE FREQUENCY OF DEVOTION. 271 

Gold and silver. Straws. 

hath called you is holy; secondly, it is to be thus 
holy in all manner of conversation; that is, to 
carry this degree of holiness into every part of 
your life, 

The reason the apostle immediately gives, 
why this spirit of holiness must be the common 
spirit of Christians, as such, is very affecting, 
and such as equally calls upon all sorts of Chris- 
tians. " Forasmuch as ye know, that ye were 
not redeemed with corruptible things, as silver 
and gold, from your vain conversation, but with 
the precious blood of Christ," &c. 

If, therefore, you consider your gold and silver, 
and the corruptible things of this life, as any 
reason why you may neglect a life of strict piety; 
if you think any thing in the world can be an 
excuse for your not imitating the holiness of 
Christ in the whole course and form of your life, 
you may make yourself as guilty, as if you 
should neglect the holiness of Christianity for 
the sake of picking straws. For the greatness 
of this new life to which we are called in Christ, 
and the greatness of the price by which we are 
made capable of this glory, has turned every 
worldly, temporal, and corruptible thing into an 
equal littleness; and made it as great baseness 
and folly, as great a contempt of the blood of 
Christ, to neglect any degrees of holiness, be- 
cause you are a man of some estate and quality, 
as it would be to neglect it, because you had a 
fancy to pick straws, 



972 SERIOUS CALL. 



We are not our own. Walking worthy of God. 

Again, the same apostle says, " Know ye not 
that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost 
which is in you, and ye are not your own? For 
ye are bought with a price; therefore glorify God 
in your body, and in your spirit, which are God's." 

How poorly, therefore, have you read the 
Scripture — how little do you know of Christianity, 
if you can yet talk of your estate and condition, 
as a pretence for a freer kind of life? Are you 
any more your own, than he that has no estate 
or dignity in the world? Must mean people 
preserve their bodies as temples of the Holy 
Ghost, by watching, fasting, and prayer; while 
you may indulge yours in idleness, lusts, and 
sensuality? How poor and ignorant are such 
thoughts as these! Yet you must either think 
thus, or else acknowledge, that the holiness of 
saints, prophets, and apostles is the holiness that 
you are to labor after with all the diligence and 
care that you can. 

Again; the apostle says, " You know how we 
exhorted and charged every one of you, that ye 
would walk worthy of God, who hath called you 
to his kingdom and glory." 

You perhaps have often heard these words, 
without thinking how much they required of 
you. And yet you cannot duly consider them, 
without perceiving to what an eminent state of 
holiness they call you. How can the holiness 
of the Christian life be set before you in higher 
terms, than when it is represented to you, as 



THE FREQUENCY OF DEVOTION. 275 

Abatements. Exceptions. 

walking worthy of God? Can you think of any 
abatements of virtue, any neglects of devotion, 
that are consistent with a life that is to be 
made worthy of God? Can you suppose that 
any man walks in this manner, but he that 
watches over all his steps, and considers how 
every thing he does, may be done in the spirit 
of holiness? Yet as high as these expressions 
carry this holiness, it is here plainly made the 
necessary holiness of ail Christians. For the 
apostle does not exhort his fellow apostles and 
saints to this holiness, but commands all Chris- 
tians to endeavor after it. "We charged," says 
he, " every one of you, that you would walk 
worthy of God, who hath called you to his king- 
dom and glory. 35 

Again ; Peter says, " If any man speak, let 
him speak as the oracles of God; if any man 
minister, let him do it as of the ability that God 
giveth; that God in all things may be glorified in 
Christ Jesus." 

Do you not here plainly perceive your high 
calling? Is he that speaketh, to have such re- 
gard to his words, that he appear to speak as by 
the direction of God? Is he that giveth, to take 
care that he so giveth, that what he disposeth of 
may appear to be a gift that he hath of God? 
And is all this to be done, that God may be glo- 
rified in all things? Must it not then be said, 
that if any man has nobility, dignity of state, or 
figure in the world, he must use these as the 



274 SERIOUS CALL. 



A new precept. Why new. 

gifts of God, for the greater setting forth of his 
glory? If so, then your estate and dignity is so 
far from excusing you from great piety, that it 
lays you under a greater necessity of living more 
to the glory of God, because you have more gifts 
that may be made serviceable to it. 

I now proceed to consider the nature and 
necessity of universal love. 

Our blessed Lord hath recommended his love 
to us, as the pattern and example of our love to 
one another. As therefore he is continually 
making intercession for us all, so ought we to 
intercede and pray for one another. " A new 
commandment, 35 says he, " I give unto you, that 
ye love one another, as I have loved yon. By 
this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, 
if ye love one another." 

The newness of this precept did not consist in 
that men were commanded to love one another; 
for this was an old precept, both of the law of 
Moses, and of nature. But it was new in that 
it was to imitate a till then unheard of example 
of love; it was to love one another, iC as Christ 
had loved us." 

If men are to know that we are disciples of 
Christ, by our loving one another according to 
his new example of love; then it is certain, that 
if we are void of this love, we make it as plainly 
known unto men, that we are none of his dis- 
ciples. 



UNIVERSAL LOVE. 275 

The greatness of God. Man's true greatness. 

The greatest idea that we can frame of God is 
when we conceive him to be a being of infinite 
love and goodness; using an infinite wisdom and 
power for the common good and happiness of all 
his creatures. The highest notion therefore that 
we can form of man is when we conceive him 
as like to God in this respect as he can be; using 
all his finite faculties, whether of wisdom, power, 
or prayers, for the common good of all his fellow 
creatures; heartily desiring they may have all 
the happiness they are capable of, and as many 
benefits from him, as their condition in the world 
will permit. 

And on the other hand, what a baseness is 
there in all instances of hatred, envy, spite, and 
ill-will, if we consider, that every instance of 
them is so far acting in opposition to God, and 
intending mischief and harm to those creatures, 
which God favors, and protects, and preserves, 
in order to their happiness? An ill-natured man 
among God's creatures, is acting contrary to that 
love, by which himself subsists, and which alone 
gives subsistence to all that variety of beings, 
that enjoy life in any part of the creation. 
" Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto 
you, even so do unto them." 

Now, though this is a doctrine of strict justice, 
yet it is only an universal love that can comply 
with it. For as love is the measure of our acting 
towards ourselves, so we can never act in the 
same manner towards other people, till we look 



276 SERIOUS CALL. 



Our tempers. Acts of love. 

upon them with that love with which we look 
upon ourselves. As we have no degrees of ill- 
will to ourselves, so we cannot be disposed to- 
wards others as we are towards ourselves, till we 
universally renounce all instances of spite and 
envy, and ill-will, even in the smallest degrees. 

If we had any imperfection in our eyes, that 
made us see any one thing wrong, for the same 
reason we should see an hundred things wrong. 
So if we have any temper of our hearts, that 
makes us envious, spiteful, or ill-natured towards 
any one man, the same temper will make us en- 
vious, spiteful, and ill-natured towards a great 
many more. If, therefore, we desire this divine 
virtue of love, we must exercise and practise our 
hearts in the love of all, because it is not Chris- 
tian love, till it is the love of all. 

If a man could keep this whole law of love, 
and yet offend in one point, he would be guilty 
of all. Acts of love that proceed not from a 
principle of universal love are but like acts of 
justice, that proceed from a heart not disposed 
to universal justice. A love which is not uni- 
versal, may indeed have tenderness, but it hath 
nothing of righteousness in it. It is but humor, 
or interest, or such a love as publicans and 
heathens practise. 

All particular envies and spites, are as plain 
departures from the spirit of Christianity, as 
particular acts of injustice. For it is as much 
a law of Christ, to treat every body as 3'our 



UNIVERSAL LOVE. 277 

The noble motive. Jienevolence. 

neighbor, and to love your neighbor as yourself, 
as it is a law of Christianity to abstain from 
theft. 

Now the noblest motive to this universal ten- 
derness and affection, is founded in this doctrine: 
" God is love, and he that dwelleth in him, 
dwelleth in God." Who would not aspire after 
this divine temper, which so changes and exalts 
our nature into an union with him? How should 
we rejoice in the exercise and practice of this 
love, which, so often as we feel it, is an assurance 
to us, that God is in us, and that we act accord- 
ing to his spirit, who is love itself? But we must 
observe that love has only then this mighty power 
of uniting us to God, when it is so pure and uni- 
versal, as to imitate that love which God beareth 
to all his creatures. 

God willeth the happiness of all beings, though 
it is no happiness to himself. Therefore we 
must desire the happiness of all beings, though 
no happiness accrue to us from it. God delights 
in the perfections of all his creatures, therefore 
we should rejoice in them, and be as glad to have 
other people perfect as ourselves. As God for- 
giveth all, and giveth grace to all, so we should 
forgive all those who injure and affront us, and 
do them all the good we can. 

How silly would it be to envy a man, who was 
drinking poison out of a golden cup ? Yet who 
can say, that he acts wiser who envies any 
instance of worldly greatness ? How many saints 

24 



278 SERIOUS CALL. 



Envy. Its folly and guilt. 

has adversity sent to heaven? And how many 
sinners has prosperity plunged into everlasting 
misery ? 

She who is envied for her beauty, may per- 
chance owe all her misery to it; and another may 
be for ever happy for having had no admirers of 
her person. One man succeeds in every thing, 
and so loses all: another meets with nothing but 
crosses and disappointments, and thereby gains 
more than all the world is worth. 

How envied was Alexander, when in conquer- 
ing the world, he built towns, set up his statues, 
and left marks of his glory in so many kingdoms ! 
And how despised was the poor preacher Paul, 
when he was beaten with rods ! Yet how strangely 
was the world mistaken in their judgment ! How 
much to be envied was Paul ! How much to be 
pitied was Alexander ! 

These reflections sufficiently show, that the 
different conditions of this life have nothing in 
them to excite our uneasy passions — nothing that 
can reasonably interrupt our love and affection 
to one another. 

We proceed now to another motive to this 
universal love. 

Our power of doing external acts of love and 
goodness is often very narrow and restrained. 
There are, it may be, but few people to whom 
we can contribute any worldly relief. But 
though our outward means of doing good are 
thus limited, yet if our hearts are full of love and 



UNIVERSAL LOVE. 279 

Our means small. Our desires accepted. 

goodness, we get as it were an infinite power; 
because God will attribute to us those good works, 
which we sincerely desired, and would gladly 
have performed, had they been in our power. 

You cannot heal all the sick, or relieve all the 
poor; you cannot comfort all in distress, nor be 
a father to all the fatherless. You cannot, it may 
be, deliver many from their misfortunes, or teach 
them to find comfort in God. But, if there is a 
love and tenderness in your heart that delights in 
these good works, and excites you to do all that 
you can; if your love has no bounds, but contin- 
ually wishes and prays for the relief and happi- 
ness of all who are in distress, you will be 
received by God as a benefactor to those, who 
have had nothing from you but your good will, 
and tender affections. 

You cannot build hospitals nor erect semina- 
ries of education; but if you join in your heart 
with those who do, and thank God for their pious 
designs; if you are a friend to these great friends 
to mankind, and rejoice in their eminent virtues, 
you will be received by God as a sharer of such 
good works; for, though they had none of your 
hands, they had all your heart. 

We may hence learn the great evil and mis- 
chief of all wrong turns of mind, of envy, spite, 
hatred, and ill-will. For if the goodness of our 
hearts will be accounted as good actions, though 
we never performed them; it is certain that our 
envy, ill-nature, and hatred, will bring us under 



280 SERIOUS CALL. 



The power and purifying tendency of love. 

the guilt of actions that we have never commit- 
ted. As he that lusteth after a woman shall be 
reckoned an adulterer, so the ill-natured man 
who only secretly rejoices at evil, shall be reck- 
oned a murderer. Since, therefore, our hearts, 
which are always naked, and open to the eyes of 
God, give such an exceeding extent and increase 
either to our virtues or vices, it is our best and 
greatest business to watch, correct, and improve 
the temper of our souls. 

Nothing so much exalts our souls, as this heav- 
enly love. It cleanses and purifies like a holy 
fire. It makes room for all virtues, and carries 
them to their greatest height. Every thing good 
and holy grows out of it, and it becomes a 
continual source of all holy desires, and pious 
practices. 

By love, I do not mean any natural tenderness, 
which is more or less in people according to their 
constitutions; but I mean a principle of reason 
and piety, which makes us tender, and benevo- 
lent to all our fellow creatures, as creatures of 
God, and for his sake. It is this love that loves 
all things in God, as his creatures, as the images 
of his power, as the creatures of his goodness, as 
parts of his family, as members of his society, 
that becomes a holy principle of all great and 
good actions. 

Can I think that I love God with all my heart, 
while I hate that which belongs to God, which 
has no other master but him, which is part of his 



UNIVERSAL LOVE. %$% 

fini-f .--»-■ >- , _____ . ____ 

No love religious but that which is universal. 

family, and exists only by the continuance of his 
love towards it ? It was the impossibility of this 
that made John say, " That if any man saith, he 
loveth God and hateth his brother, he is a liar/ 5 

These reasons sufficiently show, that no love 
is holy or religious, till it becomes universal. If 
religion has great and necessary reasons why I 
should live in love and friendship with any one 
man in the world, they are the same great and 
necessary reasons why I should live in love and 
friendship with every man in the world. Conse- 
quently I offend against all these reasons, and 
break through all these ties and obligations, 
whenever I want love towards any one man. 
And though people may appear to us ever so sin- 
ful, odious, or extravagant in their conduct, in- 
stead of regarding them with contempt, we should 
look upon them with the greater compassion, as 
being in the most pitiable condition that can be. 

As it was the sins of the world, that made the 
Son of God become a compassionate suffering 
advocate for all mankind; so none is of the spirit 
of Christ, but he who has the utmost compassion 
for sinners. Nor is there any greater sign of 
your own perfection, than when you find your- 
self all love and compassion towards those who 
are very weak and defective. And on the other 
hand, you have never less reason to be pleased 
with yourself, than when you find yourself most 
angry at the behavior of others. All sin is cer- 
tainly to be hated and abhorred 3 but then we 

24* 



£82 SERIOUS CALL* 



Tenderness towards the wicked. 



must set ourselves against sin, as we do against 
diseases, by showing ourselves tender, and ren- 
dering services to the sick. All other hatred of 
sin, which does not fill the heart with tender 
affections towards persons miserable in it, is the 
servant of sin at the same time that it seems to 
be hating it* 

There is no temper which even good men 
ought more carefully to watch and guard against 
than this. For it lurks and hides itself under the 
cover of many virtues, and by being unsuspected 
does the more mischief. A man naturally fan- 
cies, that it Is his own exceeding love of virtue 
that makes him not able to bear with those that 
want it. 

That the follies, crimes and ill behavior of our 
fellow creatures, may not lessen that love and 
tenderness which we are to have for all mankind, 
we should often consider the reason on which 
this duty of love is founded. We are to love our 
neighbors, that is, all mankind, not because they 
are wise, holy, virtuous, or well-behaved \ for all 
mankind never was 3 nor never will be so* 

Again, we are sure that the merit of persons, 
is not the reason of oui* being obliged to love 
them, because we are commanded to pay the 
highest instances of love to our worst enemies; 
we are to love and bless, and pray for those that 
most injuriously treat us. This therefore is 
demonstration, that the merit of persons is not 
the reason on which our obligation to love them 
is founded. 



UNIVERSAL LOVE. 283 

Equity. Authority. Example. 

Let us farther consider, what that love is, 
which we owe to our neighbor. It is to love 
him as ourselves $ that is 3 to wish him every thing 
that we may lawfully wish to ourselves; to be 
glad of every good, and sorry for every evil that 
happens to him* and be ready to do him all such 
acts of kindnessj as we are always ready to do 
ourselves. 

Our obligation to love all men in this manner; 
is founded upon many reasons. 

1. Upon equity; for if it is just to love our- 
selves hi this manner, it must be unjust to deny 
any degree of this love to others, because every 
man is so exactly of the same nature, and in the 
same condition as ourselves. If therefore your 
own crimes and follies do not lessen your obliga- 
tion to seek your own good, and wish well to 
yourself; neither do the follies and crimes of 
your neighbor lessen your obligation to wish and 
seek the good of your neighbor. 

2. This love is founded in the authority of 
God, who has commanded us to love every man 
as ourselves. 

3. We are required thus to love, in imitation 
of God's goodness, that we may be children of 
our Father, which is in Heaven, who willeth the 
happiness of all his creatures, and maketh his 
sun to rise on the evil, and on the good. 

4. By the command of our Lord and Savior, 
who has required us to love one another, as he 
has loved us. 



284 SERIOUS CALL. 



These reasons permanent. A question answered. 

These reasons never vary, or change, they 
always continue in their full force j and therefor© 
equally oblige us at all times, and in regard to all 
persons. It appears plainly from what has been 
said, that the love which we owe to our breth- 
ren, is only a love of benevolence, and that this 
duty of benevolence is founded upon such rea- 
sons as never change; such as have no depend- 
ence upon the qualities of persons. From hence 
it follows, that it is the same great sin^ to want 
this love to a bad man, as to want it to a good 
man. Because he that denies any of this benev- 
olence to a bad man, offends against all the same 
reasons of love, as he does that denies any be- 
nevolence to a good man: And consequently it 
is the same sin. 

You will perhaps say. How is it possible to 
love a good and a bad man in the same degree ? 
Just as it is possible to be as just to a good as to 
an evil man. Are you in any difficulty about 
performing justice and faithfulness to a bad man ? 
Are you in any doubts, whether you need be so 
just and faithful to him, as you need be to a good 
man? Why is it, that you are in no doubt about 
it? Because you know that justice and faithful- 
ness are founded upon reasons that never vary 
or change, that have no dependence upon the 
merits of men, but are founded in the nature of 
things, in the laws of God, and therefore are to 
be observed with an equal exactness towards 
good and bad men. Now do but think thus justly 



UNIVERSAL LOVE. 285 

Special esteem. General benevolence. 

of charity, that it is founded upon reasons that 
vary not, that have no dependence upon the 
merits of men, and you will find it as possible 
to perforin the same exact charity, as the same 
exact justice to all men, whether good or bad. 

You will perhaps farther ask, if you are not to 
have a particular esteem, veneration, and rever- 
ence for good men? It is answered; Yes. But 
then this high esteem and veneration, is a thing 
very different from that love of benevolence 
which we owe to our neighbor. 

The high esteem and veneration which you 
have for a man of eminent piety, is no act of 
charity to him; it is not of pity and compassion 
that you so reverence him, but it is rather an act 
of charity to yourself, that such esteem and ven- 
eration may excite you to follow his example. 
You may, and ought to love, like, and approve 
the life which the good man leads; but then this 
is only the loving of virtue, wherever we see it. 
And we do not love virtue with the love of be- 
nevolence as any thing that wants our good 
wishes, but as something that is our proper good. 

The whole of the matter is this. The actions 
which you are to love, esteem, and admire, are 
the actions of good and pious men; but the per- 
sons to whom you are to do all the good you can, 
in all sorts of kindness and compassion, are all 
persons whether good or bad. 

No man is to have a high esteem, or honor, 
for his own accomplishments, or behavior; yet 



286 , SERIOUS CALL, 



Disliking actions. Loving persons. 

every man is to love himself, that is, to wish well 
to himself; therefore this distinction betwixt love 
and esteem, is not only plain but very necessary 
to be observed. 

If you think it hardly possible to dislike the 
actions of men, and yet love them: consider this 
with relation to yourself. It is very possible, I 
hope, for you not only to dislike, but to abhor a 
great many of your own actions. But do you 
then lose any of those tender sentiments towards 
yourself, which you used to have ? Do you cease 
to wish well to yourself? Is not the love of your- 
self as strong then, as at any other time? Now 
what is thus possible with relation to ourselves, 
is possible with relation to others. We may 
have the highest good wishes towards them, and 
at the same time dislike their way of life. 

All that love which we may justly have for 
ourselves, we are in strict justice obliged to ex- 
ercise towards all other men ; and we offend 
against the great law of our nature, and the law 
of God, when our tempers towards others are 
different from those which we have towards our- 
selves. Now that self-love which is just and 
reasonable, keeps us tender, compassionate, and 
well affected towards ourselves; if therefore you 
do not feel these kind dispositions towards all 
other people, you may be assured, that you are 
not in that state of charity, which is the very life 
and soul of piety. 

You know how it hurts you to be made the 






UNIVERSAL LOVE. 2S7 

Ridicule may be traced to hatred. 

jest and ridicule of other people; how it grieves 
you to be deprived of the favorable opinion of 
your neighbors. If therefore you expose others 
to scorn and contempt in any degree; if it pleases 
you to see or hear of their infirmities; or if you 
are loath to conceal their faults, you are so far 
from loving such people as yourself, that you 
may be justly supposed to have as much hatred 
for them, as you have love for yourself. Such 
tempers are as truly the proper fruits of hatred, ' 
as the contrary tempers are the proper fruits of 
love. And as it is a certain sign that you love 
yourself, because you are tender of every thing 
that concerns you; so it is as certain a sign that 
you hate your neighbor, when you are pleased 
with any thing that hurts him. 

But now, if the want of a true and exact 
charity be so great a want, that, as Paul says, it 
renders our greatest virtues but empty sounds, 
and tinkling C3onbals, how highly does it concern 
us, to study every art, and practise every method 
of raising our souls to this state of charity? 



288 SERIOUS CALL, 

CHAP. XXII. 

OF THE NECESSITY AND BENEFIT OF INTERCESSION. 

That intercession is a great and necessary 
part of Christian devotion, is very evident from 
Scripture, The first followers of Christ seem 
to support all their love, and to maintain all 
their intercourse and correspondence, by mutual 
prayers for one another. 

Paul, whether he writes to churches or par- 
ticular persons, shows his intercession to be 
perpetual for them, that they are the constant 
subject of his prayers. Thus to the Philippians, 
" I thank my God upon every remembrance of 
you. Always in every prayer of mine for you 
all, making request with joy." Here we see, 
not only a continual intercession, but performed 
with so much gladness as shows that it was an 
exercise of love, in which he highly rejoiced. 

His devotion had also the same care for par- 
ticular persons, as appears by the following 
passage. " I thank my God, whom I serve from 
my forefathers, with a pure conscience, that, 
without ceasing, I have remembrance of thee in 
my prayers, night and day." How holy an 
acquaintance and friendship was this, how wor- 
thy of persons that were raised above the world, 
and related to one another, as new members of a 
kingdom of heaven ! 

Apostles and great saints did not only thus 



NECESSITY AND BENEFIT OF INTERCESSION. 289 

Blessedness of intercession. Its effects. 

benefit and bless particular churches, and private 
persons; but they themselves also received 
graces from God by the prayers of others. Thus 
says Paul to the Corinthians, cc You also helping 
together by prayer for us, that for the gift be- 
stowed upon us by the means of many persons, 
thanks may be given by many on our behalf." 
This was the ancient friendship of Christians, 
uniting and cementing their hearts, not by 
worldly considerations, but by the mutual com- 
munications of spiritual blessings, by prayers 
and thanksgivings to God for one another. And 
when the same spirit of intercession is again in 
the world, when Christianity has the same power 
over the hearts of people, that it then had, this 
holy friendship will be again in fashion, and 
Christians will again be the wonder of the world, 
for that exceeding love which they bear to one 
another. 

A frequent intercession with God, earnest- 
ly beseeching him to forgive the sins of all 
mankind, to bless them with his providence, en- 
lighten them with his spirit, and bring them to 
everlasting happiness, is the divinest exercise 
that the heart of man can be engaged in. Be 
daily therefore on your knees in a solemn, delib- 
erate performance of this devotion, praying for 
others with some such length, importunity, and 
earnestness, as you use for yourself; and you 
will then find ill-natured passions die away, your 
heart grow great and generous, delighting in the 

25 



290 SERIOUS CALL. 



Should be minute. Produces condescension. 

common happiness of others, as you used only 
to delight in your own. 

He that daily prays to God, that all men may 
be happy in heaven, takes the likeliest way to 
make him wish for, and delight in their happi- 
ness on earth. And it is hardly possible for you 
to beseech and entreat God to make any one 
happy in the highest enjoyments of his glory to 
all eternity, and yet be troubled to see him enjoy 
the small gifts of God in this short and low state 
of human life. When, therefore, you have once 
habituated your heart to a serious performance 
of this holy intercession, }^ou have done a great 
deal to render it incapable of spite and envy, 
and to make it delight in the happiness of all 
mankind. 

But the greatest benefits of it are received, 
when it descends to such particular instances as 
our state and condition in life more particularly 
require of us. If you change your intercessions 
according as the needs of your neighbors seem to 
require; beseeching God to deliver them from 
such or such particular evils, or to grant them 
this or that particular blessing; such interces- 
sions, besides the great charity of them, would 
have a mighty effect upon your own heart, dis- 
posing you to every other good office, and to the 
exercise of every other virtue towards them. 

This would make it pleasant to you to be 
courteous, and condescending to all; and make 
you unable to say, or do, a hard thing to those, 



NECESSITY AND BENEFIT OF INTERCESSION. 291 
Effect on ourselves. Ouranius. 

for whom you are so kind and compassionate in 
your prayers. There is nothing that makes us 
love a man so much, as praying for him; and 
when you can once do this sincerely for any 
man, you are prepared for the performance of 
every thing that is kind towards him. 

By considering yourself as an advocate with 
God for your acquaintance, you would never find 
it hard to be at peace with them yourself. It would 
be easy to you to bear with those, for wljom you 
particularly implored the divine mercy. 

Such prayers as these, would unite neighbors 
and acquaintance in the strongest bonds of love. 
It w T ould ennoble their souls, and teach them to 
consider one another as members of a spiritual 
society, created for the enjoyment of the common 
blessings of God. 

Ouranius is a pastor, full of the spirit of the 
gospel, watching, laboring, and praying for a 
poor country village. Every soul in it is as dear 
to him as himself, and he prays for them, as 
often as he prays for himself. 

He never thinks he can love or do enough for 
his flock; because he never considers them in 
any other view, than as so many persons, who 
by receiving the gifts and graces of God, are to 
become his joy, and crown of rejoicing. He 
goes about his parish, and visits every body in 
it, in the same spirit of piety that he preaches to 
them. He visits them to encourage their virtues, 
to assist them with his advice, to discover their 



292 SERIOUS CALL. 



Haughtiness cured. Obscurity not painful. 

manner of life, and the state of their souls, that 
he may intercede with God for them, according 
to their particular necessities. 

When Ouranius first entered into holy orders, 
he had a haughtiness in his temper, a great con- 
tempt for foolish and unreasonable people. But 
he has prayed away this spirit, and has now the 
greatest tenderness for obstinate sinners; because 
he is always hoping, that God will hear those 
prayers which he makes for their repentance. 

Thus have his prayers for others been the 
means of altering and amending the state of his 
own heart. It would delight you to see with what 
spirit he converses, with what tenderness he re- 
proves, with what affection he exhorts, and with 
what vigor he preaches. 

At his first coming to this little village, it was 
disagreeable and tedious to be confined in so re- 
tired a place. But now his days are so far from 
being tedious, or his parish too retired, that he 
only wants more time to do that variety of good, 
after which his soul thirsts. The solitude of his 
little parish is become matter of great comfort to 
him, because he hopes that God has placed him 
and his flock there, to make it their way to heaven. 
He can now not only converse with, but gladly 
attend and wait upon the poorest people. He is 
daily watching over the weak and infirm, humb- 
ling himself to perverse, rude, ignorant people; 
and is so far from desiring to be considered a gen- 
tleman y that he desires to be used as the servant 



necessity and benefit of intercession. 293 



Personal righteousness a qualification for prayer. 

of all. He now thinks the poorest creature in his 
parish good enough, and great enough, to deserve 
the humblest attendances, the kindest friendships, 
the tenderest offices. He is so far from wanting 
agreeable company, that he thinks there is no 
better conversation in the world, than to be talk- 
ing with poor and mean people about the king- 
dom of heaven. All these noble thoughts and 
divine sentiments are the effects of his great 
devotion; he presents every one so often before 
God in his prayers, that he never thinks he can 
esteem, reverence or serve those enough, for 
whom he implores so many mercies from God. 

Ouranius is mightily affected with this passage 
of holy scripture : " The effectual fervent prayer 
of a righteous man availeth much. 55 This makes 
him practise all the arts of holy living, and aspire 
after every instance of piety and righteousness, 
that his prayers may have their full force, and 
avail much with God. 

Ouranius reads how God himself said unto 
Abimelech concerning Abraham, " He is a 
prophet; he shall pray for thee, and thou shalt 
live. 55 And again, how he said of Job: " And my 
servant Job shall pray for you ; for him will I 
accept. 55 From these passages, Ouranius justly 
concludes, that the prayers of men eminent for 
holiness of life, have power with God; that he 
grants to other people such pardons, reliefs, and 
blessings, through their prayers, as would not be 
granted to men of less piety and perfection. 

25* 



294 SEKIOCTS CALL. 



Masters and servants. 



This makes him exceedingly studious of Christ- 
ian perfection, searching after every grace, and 
purifying his heart all manner of ways, fearful 
of every defect in his life, lest his prayers should 
be less availing with God* 

These are the happy effects, which a devout 
intercession has produced in the life of Ouranius, 
And if others were to imitate this example, in 
such a manner as suited their particular state of 
life, they would find the same happy effects from 
it. If masters, for instance, were thus to remem- 
ber their servants, beseeching God to bless them 5 
and suiting their petitions to their particular 
wants and necessities, the benefit would be as 
great to themselves, as to their servants. The 
presenting their servants so often before God, as 
equally related to God, and entitled to the same 
expectations of heaven , as themselves, would 
naturally incline them to treat them, not only 
with humanity, but with tenderness, care, and 
generosity. It would make them inclined to 
every thing good towards their servants; to be 
watchful of their behavior, and to require of them 
as exact observance of the duties of Christianity, 
as of their duties as servants. This would teach 
them to consider their servants as God's servants, 
to desire their perfection, and to do nothing be- 
fore them that might corrupt their minds. This 
would make them as glad to see their servants 
eminent in piety as themselves, and contrive that 
they should have all opportunities, and encour- 



NECESSITY AND BENEFIT OF INTERCESSION. 29$ 



Masters to intercede for servants. 

agements, both to know and perform all the duties 
of the Christian life. How natural would it be 
for such a master, to perform every part of fain* 
ily devotion; to have constant prayers; to ex- 
cuse no one's absence from them; to have the 
scriptures, and books of piety 5 often read among 
his servants; to take all opportunities of instruct- 
ing them, of raising their minds to God, and 
teaching them to do all their business, as a ser- 
vice of God, and upon the hopes and expecta- 
tions of another life? How natural would it be 
for such an one to pity their weakness and igno- 
rance, to bear with the dulness of their under- 
standings, or the perverseness of their tempers: 
to reprove them with tenderness, and exhort 
them with affection, as hoping that God would 
hear his prayers for them? 

If gentlemen think it a low employment to 
exercise such a devotion as this for their servants, 
let them consider how far they are from the spirit 
of Christ, who made himself not only an inter- 
cessor, but a sacrifice for the whole race of sinful 
mankind. Let them consider how miserable their 
greatness would be, if the Son of God should 
think it as much below him to intercede for them, 
as they do to pray for their fellow creatures. 
Let them consider how far they are from that 
spirit which prays for its most unjust enemies, if 
they have not kindness enough to pray for those, 
by whose labors and service they live in ease 
themselves. 



296 SERIOUS CALL* 

Parents to intercede for children. 

If parents should thus make themselves advo-* 
cates and intercessors with God for their children*, 
nothing would be more likely, not only to bless 
their children, but also to form and dispose their 
own minds to the performance of every thing 
that was excellent and praiseworthy* 

The state of parents is a holy state, in some 
degree like that of the priesthood, and calls upon 
them to bless their children with their prayers 
and sacrifices to God, Thus it was that holy 
Job watched over^ and blessed his children, " he 
sanctified them, and rose up early in the morning 
and offered burnt offerings ^ according to the num- 
ber of them all.' 5 

If parents, therefore, should consider them* 
selves in this light, and daily call upon God 
in a solemn, deliberate manner, altering and 
extending their intercessions, as the state and 
growth of their children required, this would 
make them circumspect in every thing they said 
or did, lest their example should hinder that* 
which they so constantly desired in their prayers* 
If a father was daily making particular prayers 
to God, that he would please to inspire his child- 
ren with true piety, what could be more likely to 
make the father himself exemplary? How nat- 
urally would he grow ashamed of wanting such 
virtues, as he thought necessary for his children? 

If a father thus considered himself as an inter- 
cessor with God for his children, to bless them 
with his prayers, what more likely means to 



NECESSITY AND BENEFIT OF INTERCESSION. 297 

Effect on the parent. Uncharitable tempers. 

make him aspire after every degree of holiness, 
that he might thereby be fitter to obtain blessings 
from heaven for them ? How would such thoughts 
make him avoid every thing sinful and displeas- 
ing to God, lest when he prayed for his children, 
God should reject his prayers ? How fearful 
would he be of all greedy and unjust ways of 
raising their fortune, of bringing them up in pride 
and indulgence, or of making them too fond of 
the world, lest he should thereby render them 
incapable of those graces which he was so often 
beseeching God to grant them. 

If all people, when they feel the first approach- 
es of resentment, envy, or contempt, towards 
others, should, instead of indulging their minds 
with low reflections, have recourse to a more 
particular intercession with God, for such per- 
sons as had raised their envy, resentment, or 
discontent; this would be a certain way to re- 
press uncharitable tempers. When at any time 
you find in your heart motions of envy towards 
any person, you should immediately pray God 
to bless and prosper him in that very thing, 
which raised your envy. Repeat your petitions 
in the strongest terms, beseeching God to grant 
him all the happiness from the enjoyment of it, 
that can possibly be received. This would be 
such a triumph over yourself, would so humble 
and reduce your heart to order, that the devil 
would even be afraid of tempting you again in 
the same manner, when he saw the temptation 



298 SERIOUS CALL* 



Disagreements. Resentments. Ridicule. 

turned into so great a means of amending the 
state of your heart. 

Again; In any little difference or misunder- 
standings that you happen to have with any one, 
you should pray for them in a special manner, 
beseeching God to give them every grace and 
blessing. You would then think nothing too 
great to be forgiven; you would stay for no con- 
descensions, and need no mediation of a third 
person, and such Christian devotion would re- 
move all peevish passions, soften your heart into 
the most tender condescensions, and be the best 
arbitrator of all differences. 

The greatest resentments among friends and 
neighbors often arise from poor punctilios, and 
little mistakes. A certain sign that their friend- 
ship is merely human, not founded upon reli- 
gious considerations, or supported by a course 
of mutual prayer for one another. For such de- 
votion must either destroy such tempers, or be 
itself destroyed by them. You cannot possibly 
have ill temper, or show unkind behavior to a 
man for whose welfare you are so much con- 
cerned as to be his advocate with God in private. 

You think it a small matter to ridicule one man, 
and despise another; but you should consider, 
whether it be a small matter to want that charity 
towards these people, which Christians are not 
allowed to want towards their most inveterate 
enemies. Be but so charitable to these men, as 
to bless and pray for them, and you will find that 



NECESSITY AND BENEFIT OF INTERCESSION. 299 

Contempt. Workmanship of God. 

you have charity enough, to make it impossible 
for you to treat them with any degree of scorn 
or contempt. 

When you ridicule a man, it is with no other 
end than to make him ridiculous in the eyes of 
other men. How, therefore, can it be possible 
for you sincerely to beseech God to honor him 
with his favor, whom you desire men to treat as 
worthy of their contempt. 

These considerations plainly show the reason- 
ableness and justice of this doctrine of the gospel, 
" Whoever shall say unto his brother, Racha, 
shall be in danger of the council; but whoever 
shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell- 
fire." We are not to believe that every hasty 
expression that slips from us, and is contrary to 
our intention and tempers, is here signified. But 
" he that says, Racha, or thou art a fool," must 
chiefly mean him that allows himself in designed 
acts of contempt towards his brother, and in that 
temper speaks to him, and of him, in reproachful 
language. These tempers are at the bottom the 
most rank uncharitableness, since no one can be 
guilty of them, but because he has not charity 
enough to pray to God for his brother. 

You would certainly think it a mighty impiety 
to treat a writing with great contempt, that had 
been written by the finger of God. And can you 
think it a less impiety to contemn and vilify a 
brother, who is not only the workmanship, but 
the image of God? If you scorn and despise a 



300 SERIOUS CALL. 



The guilt of hasty expressions. 



brother, you are chargeable with the impiety 
of despising him, for whom Christ laid down 
his life. 

Though in these words, " whosoever shall 
say, thou fool," &c. the great sin condemned is 
an allowed temper of despising a brother; yet 
we are also to believe, that hasty expressions, 
and words of contempt, though spoken by sur- 
prise or accident, are by this text condemned as 
sins. They proceed from want of Christian 
love and meekness, and call for great repentance. 
They appear to be little sins, only when compar- 
ed with habits and settled tempers of treating a 
brother despitefully, and fall as directly under 
the condemnation of this text, as the grossest 
habits of uncharitableness. 

We are always to apprehend great guilt, and 
call ourselves to a strict repentance for these 
hasty expressions; because they seldom are what 
they seem to be, that is, mere starts of temper, 
occasioned purely by surprise or accident; but 
are much more our own proper acts, than we 
generally imagine. 

A man says a great many bitter things; but 
presently forgives himself, because he supposes 
it was only the suddenness of the occasion, 
or something accidental, that carried him far 
beyond himself. But he should consider, that 
perhaps the accident, or surprise, was not the 
occasion of his angry expressions, but might 
only be the occasion of his angry temper shoiving 



NECESSITY AND BENEFIT OF INTERCESSION. 301 

Unsuspected tempers. Susurrus. 

itself. As, generally speaking, all haughty, 
angry language proceeds from some secret 
habits of pride in the heart; so people who are 
subject to it, only now and then as accidents 
happen, have reason to charge themselves with 
greater guilt than accidental passion, and to 
bring themselves to such penance and mortifica- 
tion, as is proper to destroy habits of a haughty 
spirit. 

But to return : intercession is not only the best 
arbitrator of all differences, the best promoter of 
true friendship, the best cure and preservative 
against all unkind and haughty passions, but is 
also of great use to discover to us the true state 
of our own hearts. There are many tempers 
which we think lawful and innocent, which, if 
they were to be tried by this devotion, would 
soon show us how we have deceived ourselves. 

Susurrus is a pious, temperate, good man, 
remarkable for excellent qualities. No one is 
more constant at the service of the church, or 
more affected with it. His charity is so great, 
that he almost starves himself, to be able to give 
greater alms to the poor. Yet Susurrus had a 
prodigious failing along with these great virtues. 
He had a mighty inclination to discover the de- 
fects and infirmities of all about him. You were 
welcome to tell him any thing of any body, 
provided that you did not do it in the style of 
an enemy. If you would but whisper a thing 
gently, though it was ever so bad, Susurrus was 

26 



S02 SERIOUS CALL. 



Spurious tenderness. A wise reproof. 

ready to receive it. He was always letting you 
know how tender he was of the reputation of 
his neighbor: how loath to say that which he is 
forced to say; and how gladly he would conceal 
it, if it could be concealed. 

Susurrus had such a tender, compassionate 
manner of relating things prejudicial to his 
neighbor, that he seemed, both to himself and 
others, to be exercising a Christian charity, at 
the same time that he was indulging a whisper- 
ing, evil speaking temper. 

Susurrus once whispered to a particular friend 
in great secrecy, something too bad to be spoken 
of publicly. He ended with saying, how glad he 
was, that it had not yet took wind, and that he 
had some hopes it might not be true, though the 
suspicions were strong. His friend made him 
this reply : Susurrus, you say, that you are glad 
it has not yet taken wind: and that you have 
some hopes it may not prove true. Go home, 
therefore, to your closet, and pray to God for 
this man, in such a manner, and with such earn- 
estness as you would pray for yourself on the 
like occasion. Beseech God to interpose in his 
favor, to save him from false accusers, and bring 
all those to shame, who by uncharitable whis- 
pers and secret stories, wound him like those that 
stab in the dark. And when you have made 
this prayer, then you may, if you please, go tell 
this secret to some other friend. 

Susurrus was exceedingly affected with this 



CONFORMITY TO THE WILL OF GOD. 303 

Happy consequences. Standard of holiness. 

rebuke, and felt the force of it upon his eon- 
science in as lively a manner, as if he had seen 
the books opened at the day of judgment. All 
other arguments might have been resisted: but 
it was impossible for him either to reject, or to 
follow this advice, without being equally self- 
condemned. From that time, he has constantly 
used himself to this method of intercession; and 
he can now no more privately whisper any thing 
to the prejudice of another, than he can openly 
pray to God to do people hurt. Whisperings 
and evil speakings now hurt his ears, like oaths 
and curses. 

I have laid before you, the many and great 
advantages of intercession. These considera- 
tions will, I hope, persuade you to make such 
intercessions as are proper for your state, a con- 
stant part of your daily devotion. 



CHAP. XXIII. 

THE NATURE AND DUTY OF CONFORMITY TO THE WILL 
OF GOD IN ALL OUR ACTIONS AND DESIGNS. 

There is nothing wise, or holy, or just, but 
the great will of God. This is strictly true in 
the most rigid sense. No beings, therefore, in 
heaven or earth, can be wise, holy, or just, but 
so far as they conform to this will of God. The 



304 SERIOUS CALL. 



The will of God. Resignation. 

whole nature of virtue consists in conforming to 
the will of God, and the whole nature of vice in 
declining from it. All God's creatures are 
created to fulfil his will; the sun and moon obey 
it, by the necessity of their nature : angels con- 
form to it by the perfection of their nature. If, 
therefore, you would show yourself hot to be 
a rebel and apostate from the order of the crea- 
tion, it must be the great desire of your soul, that 
God's will may be done by you on earth, as it is 
done in heaven. It must be the settled purpose 
and intention of your heart, to will nothing, 
design nothing, do nothing, but so far as you 
have reason to believe, that it is the will of God, 
that you should so desire, design, and do. You 
are to consider yourself as a being, that has no 
other business in the world, but to be that which 
God requires you to be. To think that you are 
your own, or at your own disposal, is as absurd 
as to think that you created, or can preserve 
yourself. 

Resignation to the divine will, signifies a 
cheerful approbation and thankful acceptance of 
every thing that conies from God. It is not 
enough patiently to submit, but we must thank 
fully receive, and fully approve of every thing, 
that happens to us. For there is no reason why 
we should be patient, but what is as good and 
strong a reason why we should be thankful. If 
we were under the hands of a wise and good 
physician, who could not mistake, or do any thing 



CONFORMITY TO THE WILL OF GOD. S05 

Murmuring. General Providence. 

to us, but what certainly tended to our benefit; it 
would not be enough to abstain from murmuring 
against him, but it would be duty to be pleased 
and thankful for what he did* Now this is our 
true state with relation to God; we cannot be 
said so much as to believe in him, unless we be- 
lieve him to be of infinite wisdom. Every argu- 
ment, therefore, for patience under his disposal 
of us, is as strong an argument for approbation 
of everv thing that he does to us. 

Whenever therefore you find yourself disposed 
to uneasiness, or murmuring at any of God's 
providences over you, you must look upon your- 
self as denying either his wisdom or goodness. 
Every complaint necessarily supposes this. This 
thankful state of heart, is not therefore any high 
degree of perfection, founded in uncommonly 
refined notions, but a plain principle, founded in 
the plain belief, that God is a being of infinite 
wisdom and goodness. 

Now this resignation to the divine will, may 
be considered in two respects; first, as it signifies 
a thankful approbation of God's general provi- 
dence over the World : secondly, as it signifies a 
thankful acceptance of his particular providence 
over us. First, every man is by the law of his 
creation, and by the first article of his creed, 
obliged to acknowledge the wisdom and goodness 
of God, in his general providence. He is to 
believe that the rise and fall of empires, per- 
secutions, wars, famines, and plagues, are all 

26* 



S06 SERIOtJS CALL. 



True greatness. A common sin. 

permitted, and conducted by God's providence, 
to the general good of man in this state of trial. 
A good man is to believe all this, with the same 
fulness of assent, as he believes that God is in 
every place, though he neither sees, nor can 
comprehend the manner of his presence. This 
is a noble magnificence of thought, a true relig- 
ious greatness of mind, to be thus affected with 
God's general providence, admiring, and magni- 
fying his wisdom in all things; never murmuring 
at the course of the world, or the state of things, 
but looking upon all around, at heaven and earth, 
as a pleased spectator; and adoring that invisible 
hand, which gives laws to all motions, and over- 
rules all events to ends suitable to the highest 
wisdom and goodness. 

It is very common for people to allow them- 
selves great liberty in finding fault with such 
things, as have only God for their cause. Every 
one thinks he may justly say, what a wretched, 
abominable climate he lives in. This man is 
frequently telling you, what a dismal day it is, 
and what intolerable seasons we have. Another 
thinks he has very little to thank God for, that it 
is hardly worth his while to live in a world so 
full of changes and revolutions. But these are 
tempers of great impiety, and show that religion 
has not yet its seat in the heart of those who 
have them. It may sound indeed better to mur- 
mur at the course of the world, than at Provi- 
dence: to complain of the weather, than to 



Conformity to the will of god. SO? 

a , , __ 

A vain distinction. Particular Providence. 

complain of God; but if these have no other 
cause but God, it is a poor distinction to say, that 
you are only angry at the things, but not at the 
cause and director of them. 

There is nothing more suitable to the piety of 
a reasonable creature, than thus to admire, and 
glorify God in all the acts of his general provi- 
dence : considering the whole world as his par- 
ticular family, and all events as directed by his 
wisdom. How can a man be a peevish corn- 
plainer of any thing that is the effect of Provi- 
dence, but by showing that his own self-will and 
self-wisdom are of more weight with him, than 
the will and wisdom of God ? 

Secondly, Every man is to consider himself as 
a particular object of Providence; under the same 
care and protection of God, as if the world had 
been made for him alone. 

It is not by chance that any man is born at 
such a time, of such parents, and in such condi- 
tion. It is as certain, that every soul comes into 
the body at such time, and in such circumstances, 
by the express designment of God, as that it is 
by his express design that some beings are angels, 
and others men. This we are as certain of from 
plain revelation, as we can be of any thing. As 
therefore all that is particular in our state, is the 
effect of God's providence, and intended both for 
his glory, and our own happiness, we are, by the 
greatest obligations of gratitude called upon to 
conform our will thankfully to the will of God in 
all these respects. 



SOB SERIOUS CALL* 



Faith. Culpable comparisons. 

Had you been any thing else than what you 
are, you had, all things considered, been less 
wisely provided for than you are 3 you had want- 
ed some circumstances that are fitted to make 
you happy yourself, and serviceable to the glory 
of God. Could you see all that God sees, all 
that happy chain of causes and motives which 
are to move and invite you to a right course of 
life, you would see something to make you like 
that state you are in, as fitter for you than any 
other. But as you cannot see this, so it is here 
that your faith in God, is to exercise itself, and 
render you as grateful and thankful for the hap- 
piness of your state, as if you saw with your own 
eyes every thing that contributes to it. 

Every uneasiness at our state, is founded upon 
comparing it with that of other people. This is 
as unreasonable, as if a man in a dropsy should 
be angry at those that prescribe different things 
to him, from those which are prescribed to peo- 
ple in health. All the different states of life 
are like the different states of diseases; what is 
a remedy to one man in his state, may be poison 
to another. So that to murmur because you are 
not as some others are, is as if a man in one dis- 
ease should murmur that he is not treated like 
him that is in another. Whereas if he was to 
have his will, he would be killed by that, which 
will cure another. If you give yourself up to 
uneasiness, at any thing in your state, you may, 
for aught you know, be so ungrateful to God, as 



CONFORMITY TO THE WILL OF GOD. 309 

Chance. Sober argument. 

to murmur at that very thing, which is adapted 
to prove the cause of your salvation. Were it 
in your power to get that which you think it so 
grievous to want, it might perhaps be that very 
thing, which of all others would most expose 
you to eternal damnation. 

We are as sure that nothing happens to us by 
chance, as that the world itself was not made by 
chance. We are as certain that all things happen 
and work together for our good, as that God is 
goodness itself. So that a man has as much 
reason to will every thing that happens to him, 
because God wills it, as to think that is wisest, 
which is directed by Infinite Wisdom. This is 
not cheating ourselves into any false content, or 
imaginary happiness. It is a satisfaction ground- 
ed upon as great a certainty, as the being and 
attributes of God. The providence of God is not 
more concerned in the government of night and 
day, and the seasons, than in the common events, 
that seem most to depend upon the mere will of 
men. So that it is strictly right, to look upon all 
your worldly accidents and changes to be as truly 
the effects of Divine Providence, as the rising 
and setting of the sun. 

This holy resignation, and conformity of your 
will to the will of God, being so much the true 
state of piety, I hope you will constantly pray for 
it, especially at your early morning devotions; 
that your heart may be habitually disposed to- 
wards it, and be always ready to look at every 



810 SERIOUS CALL, 



Miracles. Self-deception. 

thing as God's, and to consider him in every- 
thing. Thus every thing that befalls you, will be 
received in the spirit of piety, and made a means 
of exercising some virtue. 

Could we see a miracle from God, how would 
our thoughts be affected with a holy awe and 
veneration of his presence ! But if we consider 
every thing as God's doing, either by order or 
permission, we shall be affected with common 
things, as they would be who saw r a miracle. 
There is nothing to affect us in a miracle, but as 
it is the action of God, and bespeaks his presence. 
So when you consider God as acting in all things, 
then all things will, like miracles, fill you with 
awful sentiments of the divine presence. 

Now you must not reserve the exercise of this 
temper, to particular occasions, or fancy how 
resigned you would be, if such or such trials 
should happen. This is amusing yourself with 
the notion of resignation instead of the virtue 
itself. Do not therefore please yourself with 
thinking how piously you would submit to God, 
in a plague, a famine, or persecution; but be in- 
tent upon the perfection of the present day. And 
be assured, that the best way of showing a true 
zeal, is to make little things the occasions of great 
piety. Begin therefore in small matters, and or- 
dinary occasions, and accustom your mind to the 
daily exercise of this pious temper, in the lowest 
occurrences of life. And when a contempt, an 
affront, a little injury, loss, or disappointment, or 



SELF-EXAMINATION AND CONFESSION. 311 

Evening devotious. Repentance. 



the smallest events of every day, continually raise 
your mind to God in proper acts of resignation, 
then you may justly hope, that you shall be num- 
bered among those that are resigned and thankful 
to God in the greatest trials and afflictions. 



CHAP. XXIV. 

THE NATURE AND NECESSITY OF EXAMINATION. HOW 
WE ARE TO BE PARTICULAR IN THE CONFESSION OF 
ALL OUR SINS. HOW WE ARE TO FILL OUR MINDS 
WITH A JUST HORROR AND DREAD OF ALL SIN. 

I now come to suggest some considerations in 
relation to reasons for devotion at the close of 
the day. 

There is the greatest necessity, that all our 
daily actions be constantly observed, and brought 
to account, lest by negligence, we load ourselves 
with the guilt of unrepented sins. The examin- 
ation therefore of ourselves every evening, is not 
only to be considered as commendable, but as 
necessary. Daily repentance is of very little 
significancy, unless it be a particular confession 
and repentance of the sins of that day. Exami- 
nation is necessary to repentance in the same 
manner as time is necessary; you cannot repent 
or express your sorrow, unless you allow some 
time for it: nor can you repent, but so far as you 
know what it is that you are repenting of. So 



812 SERIOUS CALL. 



General confessions insufficient. 



that when it is said, that it is necessary to exam- 
ine and call your actions to account; it is only 
saying, that it is necessary to know what, and 
how many things you are to repent of. 

You perhaps have used yourself to confess sin 
in general, and ask forgiveness in the gross, 
without any particular remembrance, or contri- 
tion for the particular sins of that day. And by 
this practice you are brought to believe, that the 
same general form of confession is sufficient for 
every day. Suppose another person should hold 
that a confession of our sins once every week 
was sufficient; and that it was as well to confess 
the sins of seven days altogether, as to have a 
particular repentance at the end of every day. 
I know you see the unreasonableness and impie- 
ty of this opinion. Yet you cannot bring one 
argument against such an opinion, but what will 
be as good an argument against such a daily re- 
pentance, as does not call the particular sins of 
that day to a strict account. 

You must tell such a man, that by leaving him- 
self to such a weekly, general confession, he 
would be in great danger of forgetting many of 
his sins. Daily confession has no other reason 
or necessity, but our daily sins; and therefore is 
not what it should be, but so far as it is repent- 
ance and sorrowful acknowledgment of the sins 
of the day. 

You would think yourself chargeable with 
great impiety, if you were to go to bed without 



SELF-EXAMINATION AND CONFESSION. SIS 

An empty form. Specifications. 

confessing yourself to be a sinner, and asking 
pardon of God ; you would not think it sufficient 
that you did so yesterday. Yet if without regard 
to the present day, you only repeat the same 
form of words that you used yesterday, the sins 
of the present may justly be looked upon to have 
had no repentance. For if the sins of the pres- 
ent day require a new confession, it must be such 
a new confession as is proper to itself. For it is 
the state and condition of every day, that is to 
determine the state and manner of your repent- 
ance in the evening; otherwise the same general 
confession is an empty form. 

Let it be supposed, that on a certain day you 
have told a vain lie upon yourself, ascribing 
something falsely to yourself through pride; that 
you have been guilty of detraction, and indulged 
yourself in some degree of intemperance. Let 
it be supposed, that on the next day you have 
lived in a contrary manner, and fell into no 
particular outbreaking sin ; but that on the 
evening of both these days you use the same 
general confession, considering it rather as a 
duty that is to be performed every night, than as 
a repentance that is to be suited to the particular 
state of the day. Can it be said, that each day 
has had its proper repentance? 

Again: Suppose that in that day, when you 
had been guilty of the three notorious sins above- 
mentioned, you had in j^our evening repentance, 
called onlv one of them to mind: is it not plain, 

27 



S14 SERIOUS CALL. 



Minute confessions essential. Their effects. 

that the other two are unrepented of, and that 
therefore their guilt still abides upon you? So 
that you are then in the state of him who retires 
without repentance for two great sins. Now 
these are not needless particulars, or scrupulous 
niceties ; but are such plain truths, as essentially 
concern the very life of piety. For if repent- 
ance be necessary, it is necessary that it be 
rightly performed. I have entered into these 
particulars only to show in the plainest manner, 
that examination, and a careful review of all the 
actions of the day, is not only to be looked upon 
as a good rule, but as something as necessary as 
repentance itself. 

Again: An evening repentance, which thus 
brings all the actions of the day to account, is not 
only necessary because of the guilt of sin, but is 
also the most certain way to amend our lives. 
It is only such a repentance as this, that touches 
the heart, awakens the conscience, and leaves a 
detestation of sin upon the mind. For instance : 
if it should happen that upon any particular 
evening, all that you could charge yourself with 
should be a negligent performance of your de- 
votions, or time spent in impertinent conver- 
sation; if the unreasonableness of these things 
were fully reflected upon, and acknowledged; if 
you were to condemn yourself before God for 
them, and implore his pardon and assisting grace, 
what could be so likely a means to prevent your 
falling into the same faults the next day ? Or if 



SELF-EXAMINATION AND CONFESSION. 315 

A regular method necessary. 

you should fall into them the next day, yet if 
they were again brought to the same examina- 
tion and condemnation in the presence of God, 
their happening again would be such a proof to 
you of your own folly and weakness, as would 
create pain of heart and cease to practice greater 
circumspection. 

Ou the other hand, a formal, general confes- 
sion, that overlooks the particular mistakes of the 
day, and is the same whether the day be spent 
ill or well, has little or no effect upon the 
mind. A man may use such a daily confes- 
sion, and yet go on sinning and confessing all 
his life, without any true remorse or desire of 
amendment. 

In order to make this examination still further 
beneficial, every man should oblige himself to 
some method in it. As every one has something 
particular in his nature, — stronger inclinations to 
some vices than to others, — some infirmities that 
stick closer to him, and are harder to be con- 
quered than others; (and it is as easy for every 
man to know this of himself, as to know whom 
he likes or dislikes:) so it is highly necessary, 
that these particularities should never escape a 
severe trial at our evening devotion. I say a 
severe trial, because nothing but rigorous se- 
verity is sufficient to conquer them. They are 
the right eyes, that are to be plucked out and cast 
from us. As they are the infirmities of nature, 
so they have the strength of nature, and must be 



316 SERIOUS CALL. 



Anger. Vanity. Condition. 

treated with great opposition, or they will be too 
strong for us. 

He who knows himself subject to anger, must 
be exact in his examination of this temper every 
evening. He must find out every slip that he 
has made of that kind whether in thought, or 
word, or action; and must reproach, and accuse 
himself before God, for every thing that is said 
or done in obedience to passion. If vanity is 
your prevailing temper, always putting you upon 
the adornment of your person, and catching com- 
pliments, never forget this temper in your even- 
ing examination. Confess to God every vanity 
of thought, or word, or action, that you have 
been guilty of, and put yourself to shame and 
confusion for it. 

All states and employments of life have their 
particular dangers and temptations, and expose 
people more to some sins than others. Every 
man, therefore, that wishes his own improve- 
ment, should make it a part of his evening exam- 
ination, to consider how he has avoided, or fallen 
into such sins as are most common to his con- 
dition. Our business and condition has great 
power over us, and nothing but watchfulness, can 
secure us from those temptations to which it daily 
exposes us. The poor man is in danger of repin- 
ing and uneasiness; the rich man is exposed to 
sensuality and indulgence; the tradesman to lying 
and unreasonable gains; the scholar to pride and 
vanity. So that in every state of life, a man 






SELF-fiXAMINATION AND CONFESSION. Si? 
Rules. Nature of sin. 

should always have a strict eye upon those faults, 
to which his state of life most exposes him. 

It is reasonable to suppose, that every good 
man has some method of holy living, and has 
set himself rules to observe, w T hich are not com- 
mon to other people, and only known to him- 
self. It should be a constant part of his evening 
devotions to examine how, and in w T hat degree 
these have been observed. Now as good rules 
relating to all these things, are certain means of 
great improvement, and such as all serious Chris- 
tians must needs propose to themselves, so they 
will hardly ever be observed to any purpose, 
unless they are made the constant subject of our 
evening examination. 

Do not content yourself with a hasty general 
review of the day, but enter upon it with delibe- 
ration. Begin with the first action of the day, 
and proceed step by step, through every partic- 
ular matter that you have been concerned in, and 
so let no time, place, or action be overlooked. 
An examination thus man aged , will in a little 
time make you as different from }^our present 
self, as a wise man is different from an idiot. 

I proceed now to lay before you such consid- 
erations, as may assist to fill your mind with a 
just dread and horror of all sin. Consider first, 
how odious sin is to God, what a mighty baseness 
it is, and how abominable it renders sinners in the 
sight of God. Sin alone makes the great differ- 
ence between an angel, and the devil. Every 
27* 



SIB SERiOtJS CALL* 



Defilement of sin. The Atonement; 

— ?, 

sinner, so far as he sins, is a friend of the devil, 
and carrying on his work against God. Sin is a 
greater blemish and defilement of the soul, than 
any filth or disease is a defilement of the body* 
To be content to live in sin, is a much greater 
baseness, than to desire to wallow in the mire 5 
or love any bodily impurity. 

Again; learn what horror you ought to have 
for the guilt of sin, from the greatness of that 
atonement which has been made for it. God 
made the world by the breath of his mouth, but 
how difficult it is for Infinite Mercy to forgive 
sins, we learn from that costly atonement, those 
bloody sacrifices, those pains, sicknesses, and 
death, which must be undergone, before the guilty 
sinner is fit to appear in the presence of God. 

Ponder these great truths: that the Son of 
God was forced to become man, to be partaker 
of all our infirmities : to undergo a poor, painful, 
miserable j and contemptible life; to be perse- 
cuted, hated, and at last nailed to a cross, that by 
such sufferings he might render God propitious 
to that nature in which he suffered. That all the 
bloody sacrifices and atonements of the Jewish 
law, were to represent the necessity of this great 
sacrifice, and the great displeasure God bore to 
sinners. Consider the dreadful marks of God's 
displeasure at sin ; such as famines, plagues, 
tempests, sickness, diseases, and death. 

Consider that this mysterious redemption, all 
these sacrifices and sufferings, both of God and 



SELF-EXAMINATION AND CONFESSION. $19 

Our exact degree of guilt. 

man, are only to remove the guilt of sin; and 
then let this teach you with what tears and con- 
trition, you ought to purge yourself from it. 

After this general consideration of the guilt of 
sin, which has done so much mischief to your 
nature, and exposed it to so great punishment 
and made it so odious to God, consider next your 
own particular share in the guilt of sin. And if 
you would know with what zeal you ought to 
repent, consider what repentance and amend- 
ment you would expect from him, whom you 
judged to be the greatest sinner in the world. 

You may fairly look upon yourself to be the 
greatest sinner that you know. For though you 
may know people guilty of gross sins, with which 
you cannot charge yourself, yet you may justly 
condemn yourself as the greatest sinner that you 
know, for these following reasons. 

You know more of the folly of your own 
heart, than you do of other people's 5 and can 
charge yourself with various sins> that you only 
know of yourself. As you know more of the 
folly, the baseness, the pride, the deceitfulness 
and negligence of your own heart, than you do 
of any one's else, so you have just reason to 
consider yourself as the greatest sinner that 
you know. 

The greatness of our guilt arises chiefly from 
the greatness of God's goodness towards us, — 
from the particular graces and blessings, the 
favors, the lights, and instructions that we have 



820 SERIOUS CALL. 



The aggravations of our sins. 



received from him. These graces and blessings, 
and the multitude of God's favors towards us, 
are the great aggravations of our sins against 
God; but they are only known to ourselves, 
Therefore every sinner knows more of the aggra- 
vation of his own guilt, than he does of other 
people's; and consequently may justly look upon 
himself to be the greatest sinner that he knows. 

How good God hath been to other sinners, what 
light and instruction he has vouchsafed to them, 
what blessings and graces they have received 
from him; how often he has touched their hearts 
with holy inspirations, you cannot tell. But all 
this you know of yourself; therefore you know 
greater aggravations of your own guilt, and are 
able to charge yourself with greater ingratitude 
than you can charge upon others. And these are 
the reasons w r hy the saints have in all ages con- 
demned themselves as the greatest sinners, be- 
cause they knew some aggravations of their own 
sins, which they could not know of other people's. 

The right way to fill your heart with true 
contrition, is this: You are not to compare the 
outward course of your life, with that of other 
people, and then think yourself to be less sinful 
than they, because that outward course is less 
sinful than theirs. But you must consider your 
health, your sickness, your youth or age, your par- 
ticular calling, the happiness of your education, 
the degrees of light and instruction that you have 
received, the good men you have conversed with, 






SELF-EXAMINATION AND CONFESSION. 321 

Our own consciousness. Judging others. 

the admonitions you have had, the good books 
you have read, the numberless multitude of divine 
blessings, graces, and favors you have received, 
the good motions of grace you have resisted, 
the resolutions of amendment you have so often 
broken, and the checks of conscience you have 
disregarded. It is from these circumstances, that 
every one is to measure his guilt. And as you 
know only these circumstances of your own sins, 
so you must necessarily know how to charge 
yourself with higher degrees of guilt, than you 
can charge upon other people. God Almighty 
knows greater sinners, it may be, than you are; 
but your own heart, if it is faithful to you, can 
discover no guilt so great as your own. You 
may see sins in other people, that you cannot 
charge upon yourself; but then you know a num- 
ber of circumstances of your own guilt, that you 
cannot lay to their charge. And perhaps that 
person who appears so odious in your eyes, 
would have been much better than you are, had 
he been in your circumstances, and received all 
the favors and graces from God that you have, 

A serious and frequent reflection upon these 
things, will mightily tend to humble us in our own 
eyes, and make us very tender in censuiing and 
condemning other people. For who would dare 
to be severe against other people, when, for 
aught he can tell, the severity of God may be 
more due to him, than to them? Whenever, 
therefore, you are angry at sinners, whenever 



822 SERIOUS CALL. 



Conclusion. A great mistake. 

you read or think of God's indignation and wrath 
at wicked men, let this teach you to be the most 
severe in your censure, and most humble and 
contrite in the acknowledgment and confession 
of your own sins, because you know of no sinner 
equal to yourself. 



CHAP. XXV. 

CONCLUSION. THE EXCELLENCY AND GREATNESS OF A 
DEVOUT SPIRIT. 

I have now explained the nature of devotion, 
both as it regards the habits of outward life and 
the duties of secret retirement. I have only to 
add a word or two in recommendation of a life 
thus governed. For though it is as reasonable 
to suppose it the desire of all Christians to arrive 
at perfection, as to suppose, that all sick men 
desire to be restored to health; yet experience 
shows us, that nothing needs more to be pressed, 
repeated and forced upon minds, than the plain- 
est rules of Christianity. 

But in this polite age, many seem afraid even 
to be suspected of piety, imagining great devo- 
tion to be founded in ignorance and poorness of 
spirit, and that little, weak, and dejected minds, 
are generally the greatest proficients in it. But 
it may be shown, that great devotion is the no- 
blest temper of the greatest and noblest souls; 



CONCLUSION. B23 



Littleness and ignorance. True greatness. 

and that they who think it receives any advantage 
from ignorance and poorness of spirit, are them- 
selves not a little, but entirely ignorant of the 
nature of devotion, the nature of God, and the 
nature of themselves. 

People of fine parts and learning, or of great 
knowledge in worldly matters, may perhaps think 
it hard to have their want of devotion charged 
upon their ignorance and insensibility. But if 
they will be content to be tried by reason and 
scripture, it may soon be made to appear. Who 
reckons it a sign of a little mind, for a man to be 
full of reverence to his parents, to have the truest 
love for his friend, or to excel in gratitude to his 
benefactor? Are not these tempers found in the 
highest degree in the most exalted and perfect 
minds? Yet what is high devotion, but the high- 
est exercise of these tempers toward the amiable, 
glorious parent, friend, and benefactor of all 
mankind? So long as duty to parents, love to 
friends, and gratitude to benefactors, are thought 
great and honorable tempers; devotion, which is 
nothing else but duty, love, and gratitude to God, 
must have the highest place among our highest 
virtues. 

If a prince out of his mere goodness should 
send you a pardon by one of his slaves, would 
you think it a part of your duty to receive the 
slave with marks of esteem, and at the same 
time think it a meanness of spirit, to show es- 
teem and gratitude to the prince who sent you the 



S24 SERIOUS CALL, 



Tempers toward men. Tempers toward God. 



pardon? Yet this would be as reasonable, as to 
suppose that love, esteem, honor, and gratitude, 
are noble tempers, when they are paid to our 
fellow creatures; but the effects of a poor, igno- 
rant, dejected mind, when they are paid to God. 
That devotion which expresses itself in the 
sorrowful confession, and penitential tears of a 
contrite heart, is very far from being a sign of a 
little mind. Who does not acknowledge it in- 
genuous and generous, to acknowledge a fault, 
and ask pardon for the offence? And are not 
the finest minds, the most remarkable for this 
excellent temper? Is it not also allowed, that 
the excellence of a man's spirit is shown when 
his sorrow and indignation at himself rises in 
proportion to the folly of his crime, and the 
goodness and greatness of the person he has 
offended? Now if things are thus, then the 
greater any man's mind is, the more he knows 
of God and himself, the more will he be disposed 
to prostrate himself before God in all the hum- 
blest acts and expressions of repentance. The 
greater the generosity, judgment, and penetra- 
tion of his mind is, the more will he exercise 
and indulge a tender sense of God's just dis- 
pleasure. The more he knows of the greatness, 
goodness, and perfection of the divine nature, 
the fuller of shame and confusion will he be at 
his own sins and ingratitude. And on the other 
hand, the more dull and ignorant — the more base 
and ungenerous any soul is, the more senseless 



CONCLUSION. 325 



True knowledge. Sickness. 

it is of the goodness and purity of God; and 
the more averse will it be to humble confession 
and repentance. 

Devotion therefore is so far from being best 
suited to little ignorant minds, that true elevation 
of soul, a lively sense of honor, and great know- 
ledge of God and ourselves, are the greatest 
natural helps that devotion can have. 

And on the other hand, it may be made to 
appear by variety of arguments, that indevotion 
is founded in excessive ignorance. 

1. Our blessed Lord, and his apostles, were 
eminent instances of great and frequent devotion. 
Now all must grant that their devotion was 
founded in a knowledge of the nature of devotion, 
the nature of God, and the nature of man. Then 
it is plain, that those who are insensible of the 
duty of devotion, neither know God, nor them- 
selves, nor devotion. If knowledge in these 
three respects, produces great devotion, as in the 
case of our Savior and his apostles, then neglect 
of devotion must be chargeable upon ignorance. 

2. How comes it that most people have re- 
course to devotion, when they are in sickness, 
distress, or fear of death? Is it not because this 
state shows them more of the w 7 ant of God, and 
their own weakness, than they perceive at other 
times? Is it not because their infirmaries, ^r 
approaching end, convinces them of something/ 
which they did not half perceive before ? Now 
if devotion at these seasons, is the effect of a 

28 ' * - ; 



826 SERIOUS CALL. 



Want of devotion betrays shameful ignorance. 

better knowledge of God, and ourselves, then the 
neglect of devotion at other times, is always 
owing to ignorance of God and ourselves. 

3. As indevotion is ignorance, so it is the most 
shameful ignorance, and to be charged with the 
greatest folly. This will fully appear to any one 
that considers, by what rules we are to judge of 
the excellency of any knowledge, or the shame- 
fulness of any ignorance. That knowledge 
which is most suitable to our nature, and which 
most concerns us to know, is our highest, finest 
knowledge; and that ignorance which relates to 
things which are most essential to us, is ; of all 
others, the most gross and shameful ignorance. 
If there be any things that concern us more 
than others, he that has the fullest knowledge 
of these, has the clearest understanding, and 
the strongest parts. If, therefore, our relation 
to God, be our greatest relation, if our advance- 
ment in his favor be our highest advancement, 
he that has the highest notions of the ex- 
cellence of this relation, and most strongly per- 
ceives the value of holiness, proves himself 
to be master of the most excellent knowledge. 
If a judge had fine skill in painting, architec- 
ture, and music, but confused notions of equity, 
who would scruple to reckon him a poor igno- 
rant judge? But if a judge is to be reckoned 
-»rant, if he do not perceive the value of jus- 
-*u common men are to be looked upon as 
<*s knowing, according as they know 



CONCLUSION. S27 



Apprehension. Eyes. Memory. 

more or less of those great things, which are the 
common and greatest concern of all men. If a 
man should fancy that the moon is no bigger 
than it appears to the eye, and that it shines with 
its own light, and if after reading books of as- 
tronomy, he should still continue in the same 
opinion, most people would think he had but a 
poor apprehension. But if the same person 
think it better to provide for a short life here, 
than to provide for a glorious eternity hereafter, 
that it is better to be rich, than eminent in piety, 
his ignorance and dulness is too great to be 
compared to any thing else. 

If a man had eyes that could see beyond the 
stars, or pierce into the heart of the earth, but 
could not see the things that were hefore him, or 
discern any thing that was serviceable to him, 
we should reckon that he had a very bad sight. 
If another had ears that received sounds from 
the moon, but could hear nothing that was done 
upon earth, we should look upon him to be as 
bad as deaf. So if a man has a memory that can 
retain a great many things; if he has a sharp wit, 
or an imagination that can wander agreeably in 
fictions, but has a dull apprehension of his duty 
and relation to God, of the value of piety, or the 
worth of moral virtue, he may very justly be 
reckoned to have a bad understanding. He is 
but like the man that can only see and hear such 
things as are of no benefit to him. As certain 
therefore as piety, virtue, and eternal happiness, 



328 SERIOUS CALL, 



Who is wise. Our greatest good. 

are of 'the most concern to man, — as certain as 
our immortality and relation to God, are the most 
glorious circumstances of our nature, so certain 
is it, that he who dwells most in the contempla- 
tion of them, whose heart is most affected with 
them, who sees farthest into them, who best 
comprehends the value and excellence of them, 
who judges all worldly attainments to be mere 
bubbles and shadows, in comparison of them, 
proves himself to have, of all others, the finest 
understanding, and the strongest judgment. If 
we do not allow this method of reasoning, we 
have no arguments to prove, that there is any 
such thing as a wise man, or a fool. 

Now if this be undeniable, that we cannot 
prove a man to be a fool, but by showing that he 
has no knowledge of things that are good and 
evil to himself, then it is undeniable, that we 
cannot prove a man to be wise, but by showing 
that he has the knowledge of things that are his 
greatest good, and his greatest evil. If, therefore, 
God be our greatest good; if there can be no 
good but in his favor, nor any evil but in depart- 
ing from him, then it is plain, that he who judges 
it the best thing he can do to please God, who 
worships and adores him with all his heart and 
soul, who had rather have a pious mind than all 
the dignities in the world, shows himself to be in 
the highest state of human wisdom. 

4. We know how our blessed Lord acted in a 
human body. It was " his meat and drink to do 



CONCLUSION. 329 



Angels. Carnal pleasures. 

the will of his Father who is in heaven. 55 If any 
number of heavenly spirits were to leave their 
habitations in the light of God, and be for awhile 
united to human bodies, they would certainly 
tend towards God in all their actions, and be as 
heavenly as they could, in a state of flesh and 
blood. They would act thus, because they would 
know that God was the only good of all spirits; 
and that whether they were in the body or out 
of the body, in heaven or on earth, they must 
have every degree of their greatness and happi- 
ness from God alone. Thus human spirits, the 
more exalted they are, the nearer they come to 
heavenly spirits, the more will they live to God 
in all their actions. Devotion, therefore, is the 
greatest sign of a noble genius, it supposes a soul 
in its highest state of knowledge; and none but 
little and blinded minds, are destitute of it. 

5. To see the dignity of a devout spirit, we 
need only compare it with other tempers, that 
are chosen in the room of it. John tells us, that 
" all in the world, (that is, all the tempers of a 
worldly life,) is the lust of the flesh, the lust of 
the eye, and the pride of life. 55 What wisdom 
or excellence is required to qualify a man for 
these delights? To be given up to the pleasures 
of the body, can be no sign of a fine mind; for 
he who has but the sense of an animal, is great 
mough for these enjoyments. Let us suppose 
iim to be devoted to honor and splendor, and 
bnd of glitter and equipage. Now if this 
28* 



830 SERIOUS CALL, 



Devotedness to earth. The use of reason. 

temper required any great parts, to make a man 
capable of it, it would prove the world to abound 
with great parts. Let us suppose him to be in 
love with riches, and so eager in the pursuit of 
them, as never to think he has enough. This is 
so far from showing his great understanding, 
that blindness and folly are the best supports it 
hath. Let us, lastly, suppose him not singly 
devoted to any of these passions, but as it mostly 
happens, governed by all of them in their turns. 
Does this show a more exalted nature, than to 
spend his days in the service of any one of them ? 
To have a taste for these things, and to be de- 
voted to them, is so far from arguing any toler- 
able parts or understanding, that they are suited 
to the dullest, weakest minds. If there is an 
infinitely wise and good Creator, whose provi- 
dence governs all things in all places, surely it 
must be the highest act of our understanding to 
conceive rightly of him. It must be the noblest 
judgment, the most exalted temper, to worship 
Him, to conform to his laws, to study his wisdom, 
and to live and act every where, as in the pres- 
ence of this infinitely good and wise Creator. A 
devout man makes a true use of his reason. He 
sees through the vanity of the world, and discov- 
ers the corruption of his nature, and the blind- 
ness of his passions. He lives by a law which is 
not visible to vulgar eyes; he enters into the 
world of spirits; he sets eternity against time; 
and chooses rather to be for ever great in the 



CONCLUSION. 331 



A saint's greatness. Bravery and Humility. 

presence of God, when he dies, than to have 
worldly pleasures while he lives. He is full of 
great thoughts; he lives upon noble reflections, 
and conducts himself by rules and principles, 
which can only be apprehended, admired, and 
loved by reason. There is nothing therefore, 
that shows so great a genius, nothing that so 
plainly declares a heroic mind, as great devotion. 
When you suppose a man to be a saint, you have 
raised him as much above all other conditions of 
life, as a philosopher is above an animal. 

6. Lastly, courage and bravery are words of a 
great sound, and seem to signify a heroic spirit: 
but humility, which seems to be the lowest part 
of devotion, is a more certain evidence of a noble 
and courageous mind. Humility contends with 
greater enemies, is more constantly engaged, 
more violently assaulted, bears more, suffers 
more, and requires greater courage to support 
itself, than any instances of worldly bravery. A 
man who dares be poor and contemptible in the 
eyes of the world, to approve himself to God; 
who rejects human glory; who opposes the clamor 
of his passions; who meekly puts up with all 
injuries and wrongs; and dares stay for his re- 
wards till the invisible hand of God gives to 
every one their proper places; endures a much 
greater trial, and exerts a nobler fortitude, than 
he who is daring in battle. The boldness of a 
soldier, if he is a stranger to devotion, is rather 
weakness than fortitude. It is at best but mad 



83% SERIOUS CALL, 



The general inference. 



passion and heated spirits, and has no more true 
valor in it than the fury of a tiger. 

Thus we see, that all worldly attainments, 
whether of greatness, wisdom, or bravery, are 
but empty sounds; and there is nothing wise 
or great, or noble, in a human spirit, but rightly 
to know, and heartily to worship and adore the 
great God, who is the support and life of all 
spirits, whether in heaven or on earth. 



INDEX. 



Abortive wishes, 36. 

Absolute privacy not essential to secret worship, 202. 

All Christians are to seek perfection, 269-273. 

All things are God's, 44. 

Absurdity of heaping up money, 163. 

Abuse of lawful things, 78. 

Ambition, 125. 

Angels, their condition^ 66. 

Apparel indicates the state of the mind, 99. 

Blessedness of prayer, 183. 

of praying for others, 289. 

Business to be done with heavenly tempers, 48. 
not to be too extensively engaged in, 52, 267. 

Calidus, 49. 

Cascus, 213. 

Chanting psaims in private devotion, 190. 

Children to obey only in things lawful, 106. 

Christ's positive requisitions, 13. 

Classicus, 187. 

Ccelia, 126. 

Cognatus, 158. 

Conformity of our lives to our prayers, 116. 

to Christ, 224. 

to the will of God in all things, 305. 

Covetousness, 126. 

Daily religion, 9. 

Death makes earth's things look small, 38. 

Definition of devotion, 13. 

Devotion as reasonable as rectitude, 14. 

should be frequent, 266. 

Description of a pious rich man, 27, 28. 
Disquietude of fashionable life, 127. 
Divine grace indispensable, 31. 
Dress, expensive, condemned, 98, 100. 
Drowsiness, how pernicious, 172. 
Duties to the body, 257. 
Dying admonitions, 38. 

Early rising, 170. 
Early vanities, 89. 

Education made an impediment to humility, 231. 
Effects on ourselves of interceding for others, 294. 
Eminent piety required of all, 33. 
Emulation a dangerous incentive, 234-237. 
Energy indispensable to eminent piety, 34. 
Entertainments for the poor, 28. 



884 INDEX, 



Entire consecration, 55. 

Exact habits better than occasional devotion, 113. 

Exactness in any one thing beneficial, 86. 

Example of religious instruction to youth, 239-245. 

Excellence and greatness of a devout spirit, 322. 

Expenses to be regulated by religion, 76. 

Expensive ornaments betray a sinful mind, 98. 

Extensive evils of late rising, 172. 

Eusebia, 253. 

Evening devotions, 311. 

Every folly lessens happiness, 123. 

Fasting, 204. 

Faith without works, 74. 

Faithful rebuke blessed, 302, 

Feliciana, 148. 

Female decorations, 24. 

Female sex generally spoiled by education, 248. 

Fine dress betrays a disordered heart, 98. 

Flavia, 79. 

Flatus, 142. 

Follies seldom exist alone, 97. 

Folly of the worldly wise, 38. 

is never really a small sin, 65. 

Fulvius, 107. 

General confessions of sin not sufficient, 312. 
General rectitude of life requisite, 14. 
God worshipped in actions more than by words, 112. 
Great energy required to be truly religious, 34. 
Greatness of our guilt considered, 319. 

Habitual purposes and tempers, 46. 

Happiness is in proportion to devotion, 121. 

Happy family, 254. 

Hasty expressions show the state of the heart, 300. 

Holiness not an uncomfortable restriction, 121. 

Humility 205—264. 

is the noblest courage, 331. 

Imaginary wants, 124. 

Impediments to the practice of humility, 216. 
Importance of habitual right intentions, 25. 
Influence of the body and soul on each other, 198, 199. 
Intercession, its necessity and benefits, 288. 
Irreligion is without excuse, 42. 

Julius, the inconsistent man, 16. 

Knowledge of our intentions easy, 28. 

Laymen bound to be as exemplary as ministers, 119. 

Legitimate object of education, 232. 

Leisure increases our obligations to piety, 58. 

Long life not to be calculated upon, 167. 

Love of good eating, 151. 

Loving persons whose actions we dislike, 286, 



INDEX. 335 



Man's true greatness, 275. 

Matilda, 249. 

Mature Christians in danger of pride, 206. 

Mercy not promised to the careless, 35. 

Method of daily prayer, 178. 

Minuteness necessary in prayer, 290. 

Miranda, 88. 

Misery of using things erroneously, 131. 

Modesty in dress a great duty, 264. 

Most traders are sinfully busy, 50. 

Mother-tempers, 247. 

Mundanus, 185. 

Murmuring, 305-307. 

Natural weakness of man, 207. 

Negotius, 160. 

No condition of life excused from eminent piety, 110, 117. 

Obligations to universal love, 283. 

Octavius, 156. 

Offending husbands by plain dress, 103. 

Origin of most of our errors, 31. 

Ornaments of apparel, 69. 

Ostentation, 55. 

Our will a bad guide, 138. 

Ouranius, 291. 

Parents, their solemn duties, 296. 

Paturnus, 238. 

Peacefulness of devotion, 135. 

Penetens, the prosperous tradesman, 37. 

Personal righteousness a qualification for prayer, 293. 

Piety allows all proper enjoyments, 130. 

Poor enjoyments of the worldly, 149. 

people to be respected, 262. 

Prayers a small part of devotion, 113. 
Pride will grow upon virtues, 206. 

an offence to reason, 211. 

Professors, their example often injurious, 229. 

too much like the world, 21. 

Property to be held for God, 68. 

Reading other books besides the Bible, 188. 

Real Christianity rarely seen, 20. 

Real piety makes itself obvious in the life, 22. 

Reasons why our property must be consecrated, 68. 

Religion to govern every action, 62. 

not grievous, 64. 

delivers from folly, 142. 

Religious use of apparel, 104. 

Resignation, definition of, 304-310. 

Ridicule, a great sin, 298-300. 

Ridiculous mixture in the lives of some, 15. 

Right use of the world, 132. 

Rules, highly important, 86. 

Ruling habit of the mind, 54. 



836 INDEX. 

Serena, 59. 

Servants, their spiritual good to be sought, 295. 

Self-condemnation tormenting, 36. 

Self-denial promotes happiness, 134. 

Self-examination, its nature and necessity, 311. 

Sensuality, regular and unperceived. 84. 

Shame and guilt of sin, 210. 

Sin, its dreadful defilement and tendencies, 317-319. 

Sincere intentions, 25. 

Singing at private devotion, 191. 

Slavery produced by the love of praise, 246. 

Sleep the poorest enjoyment, 170. 

Strict religion happier than moderate, 129. 

Substantial devotion of a good life, 113. 

Succus, 150. 

Sunday tattle, 81. 

Superfluous eyes, hands or feet, 69. 

Susurrus, 301. 

Swearing, why common, 23. 

Talent for singing is general, 192-196. 

Tenderness toward the wicked, a duty, 282. 

The gentleman of fortune, 27. 

The will taken for the deed, 279. 

Time, a trifle in itself, 1 69. 

Time and money, their right management, 88. 

Tradesmen made eminent, 26. 

Treatment of beggars, 93. 

True sources of happiness, 122. 

Turning texts into prayers, 180. 

Uncharitable tempers curable, and how, 297. 
Uncertainty of life, 167. 
Undeserving poor to be relieved, 94. 
Uniformity in dress not required, 
Universal love, its nature and necessity, 274. 
Universality of obligation, 45. 
Unreasonable use of our powers, 109. 

Value of constant employment, 259-261. 
Village pastorship, 292. 

Want of devotion betrays shameful ignorance, 324, 328. 

Wasting property is hurting ourselves, 71. 

Weakness not the cause of our deficient piety, 32. 

Weak Christians censured, 33 

Wealth bequeathed, 163. 

Withholding from the needy things useless to us, 70. 

World, an enemy to religion, 228-230. 

not to govern us, 21 8-223. 

Worldly business lawful and proper, 49. 



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